Life Just Melts in Your Mouth
by cherrypit65
Summary: While a sadistic two-faced princess builds the perfect cake, five Smashers become the most unlikely of friends. But with a pink blob eyeing the cake and the Great Wario causing havoc, these Smashers will fight back; for what they care for the most...
1. Yea, Peachy's Got It!

**I don't own any characters. Copyrighted by owners. Ya, ya.**

**This will be a short novella. Once I revise and edit each section I'll post it. Roughly 20,000 words. Whatever. **

**Enjoy fellow readers and writers!**

That Which Takes the Cake

This is it. The moment of truth.

_Concertrate…Concentrate…_

Time seemed to have stopped.

_Steady…Steady…_

Nothing moved. Nothing _dared _to breathe.

_I can do it…almost there…whoop…almost…there…_

It had to be perfect. It just _had_ to be.

_Neeyyaahh…there!_

Peach slammed the spatula down and pumped her arms in the air.

"Whoo-hoo! I did it! I did it!"

There it glowed, all two feet of it. A five layer circular vanilla cake, leveled with strawberry and cheesecake icings, clogged with mouth-watering strawberries, swirled with whipped cream around the edges, sprinkled with finely shredded banana, and dotted with hefty chunks of cheesecake cookie dough. The epitome of perfect.

The word just thrilled her spine with goosebumps. _Perfect_. It just sounded so…like her.

_Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect._

And only she could construct such a dazzling desert! Princess Peach, the prettiest, the nicest, and bestest person in all of the Mushroom Kingdom…maybe even in the universe!

Peach stopped her celebration and grinned at the cake. She rushed toward it, slammed her hands down on the counter, and lingered her face above the cake, reading the message on top.

_Peach + Mario = Love_

Oh, how she could feel the room spin around her! How she felt like the victim of a dozen cupid arrows. Oh yes, she was in love. With the greatest man in the world, no doubt.

A man who risked his life to rescue her from the evil claws of Bowser and his troops. A hero who stares longingly at her beautiful figure. A gentleman that even held her hand while walking up the castle steps. No man was as brave and chivalrous as her Mario.

"Peach plus Mario equals love."

She threw her head back and put an arm over her brow. _Oh, how that just rolls right off the tongue! _

"I know he's going to love this cake, Mr. Game and Watch. I just _know_ it."

She twirled a 360 on one foot, her pink gown flowing upward, briefly displaying her undergarments,

No response. Peach scratched her chin.

"Mr. Game and Watch?"

A very faint and slow beeping noise whispered from behind the counter.

"Say, what are you doing behind the counter? Come look at my cake!" Peach skipped over to the counter and peered behind it.

Mr. Game and Watch lay in a heap, wearing his chef's hat. Egg, flour, sugar, icing, banana; many of the cake ingredients were splattered all over him, with barely any black from his body showing. Though he moves in a stop-animation style, one would probably conclude that he was struggling to breathe and too exhausted to move anymore.

Of course, Peach did not seem to notice his exacerbating state of health, and merely giggled.

"C'mon, you goofball. Look at the perfect cake I made." She skipped back over to the counter, humming.

Mr. Game and Watch slithered on his hands and knees and crawled toward the princess, leaving a trail of unimaginable gunk behind him. Once he got to a chair, he laddered himself up until he was back on his two feet. Slowly, he lumbered to the princess, chest still heaving, arms and head drooped down.

Peach did another 360 on one foot, again exposing her undergarments.

"Oh, Mr. Game and Watch, if it wasn't for your help, with your scrumptious recipes and your dashing cooking and baking skills, I don't think I would had ever been able to make this _all by myself_!" she emphasized those last three words and pumped her fists into the air.

Mr. Game and Watch slapped his forehead.

Peach either didn't care or didn't notice. Rummaging through the cabinets, she whisked out a large container. She placed it on the counter next to the cake and opened it, removing the top and pushing it off to the side. Then, very gently, she lifted the base plate the cake was on and slid it into the bottom of the container. With that done, she smiled at her gracefulness and locked the top of the container in place.

Gripping the container tightly to her chest, Peach said to Mr. Game and Watch, "Well, I'm going over to the other kitchen to hide this! Luigi wants to play a game of tennis with me, and afterwards I'm going to show Mario my beautiful cake! And Mario, Luigi, and I will be the only ones to enjoy the most delicious cake _ever_ made."

Mr. Game and Watch felt like a thousand venomous snake were hanging from every part of his body, but he couldn't help but ring out a laugh. Just envision the scenario; Peach shaking her head vigorously and foaming at the mouth, running to the kitchen as fast as Sonic the Hedgehog, while dragging a helpless Mario on the ground, crying to be let go, his stomach scraping up clouds of dust.

Peach walked past him, batting her eyelashes. "Thanks Mr. Game and Watch, I owe you one."

She paused at the exit and fiddled with the container.

"Oh, shoot. That's right. I'm meeting Luigi in ten minutes. I need to get changed."

She turned around. "Mr. Game and Watch, could you be a dear and clean the kitchen for me? I can't be late with Luigi. I promised him a full match this time." Peach finished with a wink.

Mr. Game and Watch collapsed.

"Thanks sweetie! You're so nice to me!" she called out from the doorway and blew a kiss, leaving behind only the dying echoes of her footsteps.

**Review if you like! Hey, you took the time to read mine, I'll take the time to read yours. We're all friends, right? Gnarly.**


	2. Don't Mess With Me!

**A quick note. I changed the title of the story, so ignore the first line in the previous chapter.**

The kitchen where Peach had sculpted her perfect cake was small and cramped, more of like a personal kitchen. Smashers used only used it if they didn't want to wait for their food in the other kitchen, didn't want to socialize, or if the other kitchen had closed; the possibilities are endless, really.

The larger one was more of a socializing unit. Booths hugged the walls, and tables and chairs were filed in the center of the room. Near the front was a bar/counter of sorts, where the older smashers could rest on barstools and have a few beers from the tap. But only at night. During the mornings and afternoons, the younger smashers occupy the bar/counter, eating their breakfast or lunch, and sometimes play games like paper football and cards.

To the left of that, stationed in the corner wall, brewed a coffee stand. For the Smashers who didn't feel like making their own food, they could ask for small baked goods, like muffins, bagels, or croissants. After breakfast hours, their lunch items included hot dogs, hamburgers, and chili. And of course, coffee constantly brewed. The coffee was highly valued. Before the tournaments started, most of the Smashers disliked coffee. But after two or three weeks into the tournament, you couldn't see someone sitting at a table without a cup of coffee, regardless of the time of day.

This kitchen was used for breakfast and lunch purposes. Smash matches were scheduled during the mornings and afternoons, so a lot of the Smashers preferred not to stuff themselves, for they may have another match within a half hour. During dinner, the place was empty, because Smashers ate with Master Hand and Crazy Hand in the grand dining hall. On Sundays, when no matches were scheduled, they went out for dinner in the nearby malls and plazas.

Today, even though it was around 11:00, the kitchen was less populated than usual. Peach maneuvered around the several tables and chairs. Her destination lie up in the front, planning to hide her cake deep within the cabinets and pantries.

Looking around the room, she saw Wario's backside, his whole upper body stashed inside the refrigerator. His butt wriggled around in a disgusting manner, and Peach felt a little bit of throw-up in her mouth.

Behind Wario was Sonic, his arms crossed over his chest and tapping his foot. He shot a menacing glare at Wario's wriggling butt, furrowed his brow to the watch on his arm, and sighed.

Aside the entrance that Peach entered, close to the corner, sat Meta Knight and Lucario. Neither of them moved much. For that matter, they didn't talk either. Both appeared zoned out into space, though every once in a while Meta Knight, eyes still focused ahead, would sip on an obnoxiously large coffee cup with both hands.

A few tables down were Ike and Dedede, engaged in a deep conversation. Ike must have said something humorous, for Dedede threw himself back in his chair and guffawed, patting his belly, simultaneously. No one knows why they became the best of friends. Outside the Smash tournaments the two were practically polar opposites. But here, all differences were set aside, and they enjoyed one another's company.

On the other side of the room sat Donkey Kong and Diddy Kong, their table mounded high with bananas. They chewed their mouth open, made loud slurping noises, and discarded their peels with a fling over their shoulders. Nonetheless, they were very content with their bananas, and smiled or high-five one another multiple times. When Yoshi hobbled into the kitchen, Diddy Kong waved him over. Yoshi hopped in place for a few seconds then scurried over to the table.

At the counter was Link, wharfing down a bowl of cereal. Along with him sat Popo and Ness, playing a game of scrabble, and whenever Popo wasn't looking, Link whispered in Ness's ear. Ness would smile and nod and, while trying to not act suspicious, would lay down a word.

And finally, next to the coffee corner lay a cardboard box. It wasn't hard to guess who was under there; the hard part was trying to imagine what was going on inside.

Overall, the kitchen was quiet. The kitchen was calm. The kitchen was peaceful.

Smiling, Peach settled over to the counter aligning the wall, behind the bar/counter. She lowered herself until the cake was level with the counter. Then she pushed and slid the cake forward on the counter. Humming to herself, she preceded in opening a cabinet.

*****

"Say, I wonder what's perking Peach up this time? Ike's eyes were locked on the princess's backside, enjoying the view

Dedede tried to calm himself down from laughing. Wiping away a tear, he choked out, "Oh gosh, that was funny…ahh…hm, Peach? Not sure, but that container she's putting in the cabinet looks mighty important." Dedede tried to srcub the tears out of his eyes to get a better look. "A cake, I may guess?"

Ike took a sip of coffee, noticing the container for the first time. "Hm, logical guess. Looks cake shaped. Whoa! Must be _some_ sort of food. The dino obviously thinks so." He pointed over to where Yoshi was sitting. Dedede shuffled his butt around, drooping one arm over the chair, and looked over to where Ike was pointing.

Yoshi was jumping up and down in his seat. He looked at the two monkeys and pointed toward the front of the kitchen. Ike and Dedede couldn't interpret the language, but Donkey Kong and Diddy Kong nodded. Then all three of them started jumping up and down, clapping their hands in the air. Their hoots and hollers echoed, drawing the attention of many Smashers.

Ike leaned over to Dedede, "I wonder if the circus is in town. They could be the first act."

Dedede guffawed.

Suddenly, Yoshi jumped off from his chair and sprinted toward the counter. He fluttered over the counter and continued sprinting, heading to the spot where Peach was currently closing the cabinet.

Just as the dinosaur was extending his stubby arms to open the door, Peach hammered her hip right into him, knocking the poor guy off his feet. He slid across the kitchen until his head connected with the wall.

Dedede croaked. The rest of the room was stark silent.

Peach speared her gaze at the dinosaur, who, upon regaining his whereabouts, noticed her and cringed into a nearby corner, trembling. His stubby arms tried to hide his large noggin as his whole body shook.

Peach then blazed her fiery eyes to the rest of the kitchen. She stomped to the front of the counter, her face red enough to mistaken as sunburn, and screamed, "THIS IS MY CAKE! _MY CAKE_! NO ONE, AND I MEAN NO ONE, IS ALLOWED TO EAT IT, TOUCH IT, EVEN LOOK AT IT. BECAUSE WHEN I COME BACK LATER AND I FIND EVEN A TINY MORSEL IS DISTURBED, I'M GOING TO - " she pulls a frying pan out from behind her – "JAM THIS FRYING SO FAR UP YOUR ANUS AND SEAR OUT YOUR INSIDES, THEN I'M GOING TO COOK THEM, AND WATCH YOU EAT EVERY SINGLE PIECE. THEN I'M GOING TO SAVAGELY RAPE YOU UNTIL YOU'RE NOTHING BUT SKIN AND BONES!!!!!"

Popo covered his ears.

Ness's eyes became red and puffy, on the verge of crying.

Link held out his sword with shaky hands, hiding his face behind it.

Meta Knight squeezed his coffee cup so tight that the liquid squirted out like a fountain onto Lucario.

Lucario's aura disappeared.

Sonic peeked out from inside one of the cabinets.

Donkey Kong and Diddy Kong freeze-framed in mid-air, too afraid to move.

Snake did not come out from his box, but if one strained his or her eyes, he or she could see that the box was trembling as much as Yoshi.

Even Wario's butt stopped wriggling.

All eyes (and one butt) focused on Peach, wishing in all that is holy that she does not spontaneously jam frying pans up their anuses.

Peach stared back, chest heaving. She flicked her hair back, coughed, and rubbed her eyes. Bizarrely enough, as if the frenzied fiasco had never happened, Peach battered her lashes and smiled. She skipped to the cabinet and nestled a padlock on it. With that done, she skipped to the entrance she had come in through, never looking back. Her humming lingered within the halls, slowly fading away until, at last, it was no more.

Ike cautiously poked his head out from under the table.

"What…What…What just happened?"

Dedede looked ready to wet himself.

"And where…in the heck…did she pull that frying pan from?"


	3. An Image Worth a Thousand Needles

**Bah.**

"Whatever species of bug that crawled up your ass must be the biggest and most poisonous in the entire universe, because you were a complete rage on the tennis court today."

"Hee hee. Sorry Luigi, I'm just a little worried about someone eating my perfect cake for my Mario-poo, that's all."

Worried_? Worried_?! No one who is a _little worried_ tries to smash a ball in your face when you're only three feet away from each other. No sir.

When Mario had first rescued Peach, it was love at first sight. Whatever the dangers, whatever the consequences, whatever the dilemma, whether it's the end of the world or a lost shoe, Mario was going to save the day. He just couldn't stand to be without her. It disturbed Luigi a little bit.

Peach and Luigi didn't hit it off very well at first; Peach found Luigi intrusive in her relationship with Mario, and Luigi viewed Peach as someone who thought she was better than everyone else. But, this was his brother's girlfriend he was dealing with. His brother would be extremely hurt if Luigi didn't warm up to the Princess, so he had promised himself to mend his relationship with Peach, for his brother's sake.

From time to time, Mario would be asked by a neighboring kingdom or land for his services, so Luigi would babysit the Princess. And he learned about her interests and her analysis on life (which still gave Luigi nightmares). But over everything else, there's one crucial rule he had to live by; she had to be the best at everything. Otherwise, she would break down into tears, like a little girl having a tantrum, and start accusing you of hating her and mistreating her. Or even worse, she would explode into a fit of rage, destroying anything (and anyone) in her path. Then, she would never be your friend again. Luigi had to be very, very careful. One mistaken could and she'd blow up in his face. Literally.

The Princess participated in many athletic activities to "maintain her perfect figure". One day, when Mario wasn't around to play tennis with her, she reluctantly asked Luigi to play. Whether she thought he was a tough competitor or that he was easy and fun to beat, he never figured out, but afterwards she continued to ask him to play with her. And as time crawled on, Peach invited Luigi to do other things with her besides sports. They watched movies together, gossiped about Mario, and attend parties together. Later on, even when Mario was in the Mushroom Kingdom, Peach would invite him to come along on their activities. The three of them had great times together.

As Mario was a boyfriend to Peach, Luigi was like her brother. In less than a year's time, their relationship flipped a 180; first as enemies, now the best of friends. During their times together Luigi helped Peach out in a few sticky situations, even once saving her from King Bowser. Though he never received anything in return, Peach had thus warmed up, treating him almost like his brother, giving him hugs and kisses.

Though, at heart, Peach was still a brat and displayed her spoiled nature around other people, especially to the Smashers. But, when she hung out with Luigi, she was almost…normal. Luigi was lost for better words in describing her. However, he still had to let her win and pretend to losing. Otherwise, she may try to stab him to death.

Usually when they played tennis, Luigi always let her win in a close match. Today was different. Luigi didn't try to lose; Peach was actually kicking his ass. She crushed him in 3 games. _Crushed_.

_Worried?_ Peach was pissed. Luigi could have sworn he was playing against a bull with flames shooting out of its eyes. _That cake must be _really _important_.

"Why, did someone give you trouble?"

"No, no. I told everyone that the cake was for Mario, and that only he, you and I could eat it. My exact words were, 'Please, this cake is for Mario. Don't eat it, or I'll be very upset.' My words seemed to reach them."

_Hm. I bet my moustache that a few more words and a frying pan were involved_. "That's good. I can't wait to try some of this cake. I heard it's a recipe of Mr. Game and Watch's."

"Yup, but I tweaked it with a few touches here and there."

Though she didn't mean it literally, Luigi guessed that Mr. Game and Watch did most, if not all, of the work.

Peach started jumping in place, grabbing Luigi's arm. "I can't wait for my Mario-poo to return from his trip tonight! He'll love me _this _much more!" She spread her arms out as wide as she could, her shoulders threatening to pop from their sockets.

A sneer slowly streamed across her face. "And so I can boast to Mario on how _I annihilated you_!"

Luigi wiped a sweaty forearm over his brow. "All right! All right! Geez."

Peach wasn't done. As Luigi walked over to his equipment, slapped in a soggy attire of green shirt, blue shorts, and green headband, Peach danced around him, a tight white tank-top stretching to its limits, and an even tighter pair of pink shorts, leaving _very_ little to the imagination. Peach probably would have had a more successful career as a stripper than a ruler of a kingdom.

"I won! I won! I won!" she repeatedly sung.

_Sigh. I better play along._ He faked a grin. "Oh…I was, um, deep in thought. About my matches tomorrow. I wasn't trying my hardest."

Peach stopped dancing and crossed her arms over her chest. She stuck her tongue out.

"Only a sore loser _would_ say that."

"Would a sore loser say – " he pretended to look sinister, whizzing his head around to suggest he didn't want anybody nearby listening , and whispered, "that he thinks the most perfect cake in the world is going to taste terrible?"

Thankfully, Peach went along with the act, over-emphasizing a fake gasp and clutching her chest. "You wouldn't dare…"

"Oh…I…would…_DARE_."

"Hm. Ok then, Mr. Sore Loser. Let's make a bet. After tasting my cake and admitting your wrong and that it's the perfectest cake you ever ate-" she spun around and pointed her wiggling ass in Luigi's direction, "-then you have to kiss my bum in front of _all_ the Smashers, including Master Hand and Crazy Hand."

A thousand needles had just detonated into Luigi's eyes.

Avoiding his eyes on her butt, he nudged it away with his tennis racquet. "Peach, that's the most disturbing thing I've ever heard. I'm not doing that. Let's just go back to the Mansion. I'll meet you and Mario in the kitchen after dinner tonight."


	4. Trapped in the Pink Room

Pink.

A color deemed girlish. Weak. Sissy. Stupid.

Falco turns his head away in disgust.

Diddy Kong covers his eyes, crying and running away.

Captain Falcon lowers his head in shame.

Pit's horniness withers and dies.

Nana has nightmares, wishing to the heavens that she never grows up like that.

Many of them actually don't mind the color, but too much of it can be deadly. Turn someone insane. That's why practically all the Smashers avoid walking past Princess Peach's room. Falco, Diddy Kong, Captain Falcon, Pit, Nana, and others can only handle so much pink.

But not Princess Peach; there could never be enough. _Pink _had her name written all over it. Pink was her world. Pink spelled beauty, beauty…and just more beauty. And it just so happened that she, Princess Peach, ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, was the most beautiful person. Ever. When she strides by, men lose their breath and faint, the sun shines brightest on her, and even people do whatever she tells them to do. She might as well have been born a goddess.

Not to mention, pink was also her favorite color.

If one were to enter her Smash Mansion bedroom, one would have thought that someone had mindlessly splattered gallons of pink paint everywhere.

The carpet spewed bright pink. The walls candy-caned with dark pink and light pink. Different calibers of dark pink stars polka-dotted the ceiling. Furniture – the chair in front of the mirror, the desk, the dresser – fell victim to the Princess's frenzy. Pillows, sheets, blanket, queen-size mattress, even the bed post frilled with pink. The blankets were fluffy, the pillows were feathery, the mattress was poofy, the sheets were lacy, and the bed post was…hm…

Everything. _Everything_ breathed pink. One would suffocate or have seizures under the mass amounts of the Princess's favorite color if he or she were to stay in the room for more than 5 seconds.

(You can understand why the other Smashers don't like going near the room. Popo believes that something pulsates behind the closed door. He thinks he sees some pink light glowing under the door, a heavy breathing thundering inside…but, he could be making it up.)

Peach skipped over to the mirror, which hadn't escaped the suffering; pink lining guarded the edges of the mirror.

Undoing her ponytail, she let her hair flaunt out, resting longingly on her shoulders and back. Without taking her eyes off the mirror, her hand reached out for her crown, nestled on the desk to her right. After taking five minutes to adjust the crown "perfectly", Peach observed herself in the mirror. Giggles burst from her, and she lightly put her fingertips over her mouth.

Oh, how it felt _angelic_ to be her. She couldn't imagine how many of the Smashers were jealous of her. At least all of them.

Turning around in place, she observed her body, hands caressing over her curves. She furrowed her brow when the mirror reflected her side profile.

_My tush isn't that big, is it? I could have sworn…_

Peach clasped her hands to the sides of her face and blubbered. Who would think she was beautiful now that her butt possessed its own gravity?

Waterfalls gushed from her eyes. Something caught her blurry vision through all the tears, directly above the mirror. When she looked at it, her face changed; it was as if someone walked in with a vacuum cleaner, sucked off her face, then pulled down another face from her scalp, like pulling down the blinds.

As if she had never been crying, Peach paraded around the room, doing cartwheels and spinning erratically.

On the wall was a poster of her Mario. Floating above his left shoulder loomed a Power Star. Floating above his right shoulder shone a Shrine Sprite. Floating above his capped head twirled a Luma. Mario himself was clad in his trademark red and blue clothes, his left leg perched up on a rock. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knee. His hands were twiddling each side of his mustache. His eyes smiled, but his mouth bore no emotion. Underneath Mario was a saying: "Mario: The Greatest Hero in all the Mushroom Kingdom".

Mario! Mario! Mario!

Her cake! Her perfect cake! He was going eat her perfect cake! He was going to love her more than ever!

This time, she gushed out tears of joy, arms reaching up to the sky.

Like a record scratch sound effect, Peach stopped with a perplexed look on her face. She prodded her pointer finger under chin.

_Where did he go? He's been gone for almost the entire day! Gasp* Maybe he doesn't love me anymore!_

The blubbering started again. As if the vacuum guy had made a second stop, her face changed back to a perplexed look.

_No! Wait! I remember. He said he was driving out of town…to the train station. Something special was coming for…for…whom? It has to be me. Who else? Oh I bet he bought me the biggest, bestest, perfectest present ever!_

Peach looked at herself in the mirror again, picking at her sweaty tee shirt. She stuck out her tongue.

_Bleh! I stink! I better take a shower. I need to prep myself for tonight, when my Mario-poo comes back!_

Excited beyond anything normal, Peach started spinning insanely fast. So fast, that her crown flopped off her head. It rolled under the bed, hiding within the deep, scary shadows.

The princess stuffed her fingers in her mouth. Her eyes bugged out, the pupils ready to burst.

_Oh no! Without my crown, people won't acknowledge me as the beautiful Princess Peach of the Mushroom Kingdom! Gasp* I'd look hideous without it. Ah!_

Peach dived onto the floor, worming her way on her stomach. Pausing to make sure nothing jumped out at her, she scurried under, feeling around in the darkness. She didn't like the dark very much…

Something glistened up ahead. Peach strained her eyes and…the crown! There it is!

She wormed faster. Closer. Closer. She could just brush it with her fingers…

Then it was like she conked into a wall. Puzzled, she looked behind her.

Her butt stuck out too much. She couldn't get it under, but she couldn't get it out either. Wedged.

_No! No! No! No! No! No one will ever find me here. I'm going to die! Ah!_

For the last time, the waterworks started again. She screamed, cussed, screamed out a lung, thrashed about, tried lifting the bed. Nothing worked. No one came to her rescue. She was Princess Peach of the Mushroom Kingdom. How could they not come to her rescue?!

She cried for fifteen minutes. But soon enough, her crying made her tired, until she cried herself to sleep, still stuck under the bed.

And little did she know that the one to rescue her would be the Great Wario.

**A little bit of foreshadowing in a few parts in this chapter. And we'll meet some new characters in the next chapters as well. Hope you likey so far!**


	5. The Great Wario Awakens

**I have to admit something first. For the past ten years, of all the stories I have written, I don't think I ever laughed at them – I kind of zone out, just mindlessly writing words.**

**I actually broke down laughing writing this chapter, and at a few of the later ones that feature this character. Even when revising and editing, I still laughed. I'm surprised he hasn't been written about more. He's just so fun to write about.**

**Anyway, enjoy.**

_Huh? Wha? Where…Where am I?_

Tiled floor. Glossy ceiling. Water running. Stinky aroma.

Wario had fallen asleep on the toilet. Again.

Ah yes, he remembered now. This was his quiet time.

"Quiet time" differed in meaning among the Smashers. Snake's quiet time would be cleaning and waxing his guns. Link's quiet time would be playing his ocarina. Meta Knight's quiet time would be zoning out.

Wario's quiet time was taking a dump.

And he did this quite often.

Wario lurched from the toilet and stretched his arms and legs. Only his most powerful and greatest dumps forced him to pass out. He was giggling with excitement to witness what masterpiece he had created.

While hitching up his purple overalls, Wario spun around and stuck his head in the bowl, his big nose inches from the crap.

Sniff* sniff*

Oh yes. This was a keeper. And look at the size of it! Who would have ever thought he, the Great Wario, could have pulled off such a tricky and dangerous task? Too bad he left his camera back at home.

Wario left the seat bowl up and did not flush. Everyone had to see what amazing feat Wario had pulled off.

The little fat man lifted his weight over to the mirror and admired himself, flexing his muscles, twisting his mustache, blasting farts. Yes. Wario was bursting with 'stud'. Satisfied, Wario stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. But then a thought streaked his mind, prickling him with annoying claws. Wario frowned.

"Why am I, the Great Wario, the only one who knows about this?" he grumbled to his reflection.

It was true. None of the other Smashers ever spoke to him or even acknowledged his presence.

Wario blasted another fart and quickly wafted it to his face. Well, that wasn't entirely true… many of the Smashers could smell his fragrance from the other side of the Mansion.

But still, Wario deserved more than that. No one ever said, "Wario, you are the greatest," or, "Wario, you're so strong and are the greatest," or even, "Wario, you can do anything because you are the greatest."

Nothing like that. Instead, they insulted his intelligence, made fun of his hygiene and weight, and scolded him on his behavior. They keep forgetting that there are speaking within the presence of the Great Wario.

Still frowning, Wario flung his enormous bulk to the window next to the mirror.

Sunny days. Perfect, sunny days. When flowers bloomed, hungrily absorbing the smiling rays of the sun. When water scampered, hiding in the cool coating of shadow. When birds sung, melting the hardness within one's heart. When winds whispered, carrying the voices of a thousand angels. These kinds of days hinted no signs of calamity…the perfect day. One who strolled down these lands would encompass the peace and love within life, feeling refreshed, ready to begin another chapter in life's written pages.

It was going to be a bad day.

Wario didn't like this weather. Stormy, rainy nights were more of his cup of tea. Wario always felt proud of himself in those aspiring conditions.

But not now.

Grinding his teeth, Wario hurtled over to the door and tore it off its hinges and chucked it into the wall with a sickening crunch. He hobbled/stomped after it, stretching the cricks out of his neck.

"Get ready for Wario!" he bellowed.

No one replied.

All ready bored of trying to show who the boss was, Wario perniciously became hungry.

He glanced down at his watch and gasped. Dread flowed through the veins and arteries that hadn't clogged up from atherosclerosis.

"Three hours! It's been three hours since I last ate! Oh gosh, I'll starve!"

Compared to other schedules the Smashers kept , Wario was convinced that his schedule was highly admired. The constistency and flow of progress was stimulating; he was never late, accomplished his tasks on time, and rarely screwed up.

Every morning, Wario would wake up and admire himself in the mirror for 1 hour. Satisfied with his work, he would stampede to the kitchen and inhale everything disgusting in the refrigerator. The most fattening and unhealthy foods made him feel better about himself. This process would take roughly 2 hours. After eating most of that week's groceries, at around two in the afternoon, Wario would take a dump. Two hours later, after his exercise in the bathroom, Wario would go back to the kitchen and eat more food. Another two hours later, at six in the evening, Wario would stammer around the hallways of the Mansion, declaring how incredibly great he was. When he knew everyone had heard him, at seven o'clock, Wario would go back to the kitchen, grab a handful of food, and take a dump. This required strenuous timing and skill, as Wario had to eat, watch TV, and dump at the same time. At nine o'clock, Wario would stampede back to his room to admire himself in the mirror again. Then at ten, he went to bed.

But three hours since last meal? He could have died had he not been so quick-witted.

Wario trekked down the hallway, trickling farts every few seconds or so. Captain Falcon walked by, a newspaper and racing magazine tucked under his arm. He was smiling, but someone smacked it off his face when he saw a sneering Wario hobble past him. Upon witnessing the look of horror on the bounty hunter's face, Wario's sneer grew wider, fully showing his serrated teeth.

Behind him, Captain Falcon hurled a scream. "Nooo!!!! It smells like something died in here…four times over!"

Wario's snickered through a gritted grin. Only he, the Great Wario, could leave such a genuine aroma. Everyone would want to speak to him, bow down to him…or even, give him money! Wario snickered harder.

"Oh no!!! The stench is wafting into the hallway. I can't close the door!"

A door opened and another voice squawked, "Hey, Captain Falcon, I'm tryin- Oh gah! What's that odor?!"

"Falco! Quick! Help me get everyone off this floor! Before all the oxygen runs out!"

Screams and coughs from several Smashers pierced the thick air as Falco and Captain Falcon hurried to warn everyone about the oncoming odor. Among all the chaos, Wario heard a small explosion.

Captain Falcon's voice rose above everyone else's. "Oh no! Olimar's room is on fire! I can't open the door! It's warped or something! Falco! Snake! Help me before the little guy fries in there!" All the methane in the hallway must have triggered a fire when Olimar was probably fiddling with some electricity, and now the man was trapped in a room filled with fire and smoke.

This was turning out to be a pretty rotten day after all. Wario loved rotten days.

But it wasn't his problem. If he, the Great Wario, did not eat within a few minutes, he may not see the oncoming tomorrow.

Leaving the smoky hallway of death, Wario rolled down the stairs, like a bowling ball rolling down an alley.

*****

Popo grabbed Ness by the shoulders. "Hey Ness, do you hear something?"

Ness stopped swinging his bat and listened. Yes, he did hear something…a little faint, but it sounded like it was getting…closer.

Ness said, "It almost sounds like someone sitting on a really long whoopee cushion. And it could just be me, but I think it's getting closer."

The Mansion began to vibrate, increasing violently. Popo said, "Uh…I think you may be right."

The shaking knocked Popo and Ness off their feet, landing on their butts. They were facing the stairs, and what they saw bouldering down the stairs made them almost soil themselves.

Ness shot up and pulled Popo with him. "RUN!!!"

The mass of yellow and purple gooped after them, making a wet sound as it hit the landing. Ness and Popo ran down the nearest hallway, the ball a few feet behind them.

But they didn't get too far; Popo, wearing his trademark spiked shoes, tangled with the carpet and he fell over with an "oof!"

Ness could only throw a glance over his shoulder as the fatty-like boulder smushed Popo. Ness hoped that those weren't Popo's bones cracking.

Those few seconds cost Ness, because with his head turned in the opposite direction, he smacked right into the end of the hallway, completely forgetting to turn right, where the hallway continued. The impact caused Ness to stutter back a few steps, and he landed on his butt. He only had seconds to turn around and cringe in horror as the gelatinous blob of a boulder swallowed him. Then, darkness.

*****

Upon arriving in the kitchen, Wario wasted no time. Thank goodness no one was currently in the kitchen at the moment, because someone probably would have been hurt. The short fat man left a trail of destruction; he flicked tables and chair out his way, bopping away some with his stomach and butt. He even inhaled one of the chairs by accident.

When Wario finally arrived at the refrigerator, he began to cry. There was nothing more beautiful in the world than this behemoth, standing nine feet tall, covered in chrome, not a spot of dirt and dust on it. Wario made sure to buffer the fridge every day.

Before he opened the door, Wario looked behind him to the rest of the kitchen. The place appeared to be an aftermath of a gigantic tornado.

Wario grinned. He loved destruction.

This was one of the most rotten days of his life.

Wario gently opened the door, treating it like how an adult would carry an expensive vase full of water, and let the cool air of the refrigerator envelop him.

He didn't realize how incredibly sweaty he was. The cool air chilled him a little. Well, the sweatier he was, the more of the Great Wario there was to go around.

Clasping his hands together like a diver preparing itself for a swim race, Wario dove into the fridge, mouth wide enough to stuff the grand canyon in. Just before landing inside, Wario blasted a fart so powerful that Peach's padlock snapped off, thunking onto the counter.

Wario did not care to notice. He swam inside the refrigerator, inhaling anything that appeared edible. This was Wario's life, truly the greatest life anyone could possibly live.

After all, he was the Great Wario.

**Hoped you liked this chapter. It's a bit different, but you could compare Peach and Wario. They're both nuts, ha ha. And another vital character coming up in the next chapter.**

**Thanks for reading so far, fellow readers and writers!**


	6. Kirby Hungry

**This one is short, so I decided to fix and post it up quick. It's short for a reason; it'll usually be this way with this character.**

Kirby hungry.

Kirby go to food place. Kirby like food. Food make Kirby happy.

Kirby walk down hall. Wave to Fox. Fox wave back. Fox best friend to Kirby. Kirby wonder what Fox taste like. Maybe Kirby eat Fox some day. Fox good to Kirby.

Fox walk by. Kirby walk. Kirby really hungry now. Kirby wonder what food in kitchen. Kirby want good food. Kirby hope Yoshi not eat all food.

Kirby hit in face. Kirby fall down. Kirby feel hands. Grab Kirby.

"Whoops. Sorry, Kirby. I didn't mean to step on you. I didn't see you. Man, you're so damn small."

Kirby see world spin. Kirby see Samus. Samus best friend to Kirby. Kirby want hug Samus. Samus give good hugs.

"Whoa, uh…good to see y – hey, wha – get out of there!"

Kirby like hug. Kirby hug round thing. Kirby like round thing. Samus like hug. Throw Kirby on ground. Kirby love hugs. But, Kirby hungry. Kirby go to food place. Kirby wave bye to Samus.

Kirby flop down stairs. Enter hall. Kirby smell food. Food smell good. Kirby like food.

Bowser turn corner. Step on Kirby. Kirby squashed. Bowser best friend to Kirby. Kirby no eat Bowser. Bowser too spiky. Kirby hate spiky. Kirby like soup. Kirby make 'Bowser soup'. Kirby no eat spiky in soup. Kirby like plan. Make soup tomorrow.

Kirby enter food place. See nobody.

Kirby float to counter. Search cabinets. Kirby hungry. Kirby no want spicy food. Kirby no want mustardy food. Kirby no want spiky food…

Kirby love find food. Finding food make Kirby hungry. Kirby go to refrigerator. Kirby open. Something inside.

Wario in refrigerator. Wario butt talk to Kirby. Kirby do not understand. Kirby smile. Wario best friend to Kirby. Wario dance funny. Wario butt funny. Kirby hungry.

Kirby smell something sweet…something, pleasant…something…perfect…

Kirby float on counter. Roll to cabinet. Kirby open. Kirby see container. Kirby like containers. Containers have food. Kirby like food. Food really good to Kirby. Kirby best friends with food.

Kirby open container. Kirby open mouth very wide.

Kirby _really_ like food.


	7. Tale of the Sorrowed Brothers

**All right. This a serious chapter, and a few will be like this, while still trying to hold the light and humorous touch. The plot starts to thicken now.**

_Before the Smash Bros. tournaments, Luigi was a nobody._

_Even before the Mario bros. were civilians of the Mushroom Kingdom, Mario and Luigi had been civilians of a different land._

_You see, Mario and Luigi are not originally from this universe. Brooklyn, New York is their real home. Born in an Italian family struggling to make a living, their parents could not afford to nurture them in such a small house, surrounded by scrungy houses and alleys, with shady characters making drug deals every five minutes. Mama and Papa would rather have had their arms and legs ripped off then give their children away. But when the father lost his job in the shoe box factory, they had no other choice. They loved their children too much to hurt them._

_With Mario at the tender age of three and Luigi barely a few weeks old, Mama and Papa gave their kids up for adoption. And here, they spent the next five years of their lives. _

_Mario evolved into a gentleman and a leader. Playing with the other kids, they looked to him for what to do; what should they play, who's on what team, etc,. Kids of all ages, be it five or seventeen, wanted to chat with him, have lunch with him, even just a simple as watching television in silence. Kids swarmed around him constantly; he was never by himself._

_Even with the adults, Mario always acted courteously, supplying help for the workers when nobody asked him too. Mario was treated differently; because of his more mature behavior, many of the adults treated him like one. They would have conversations with him, about their wives and husbands, about their kids, even about their favorite television programs._

_Everyone knew, young and old, that Mario was special. Wherever he entered a room, he seemed to glow, enlightening the atmosphere with a sense of happiness, care, and love. Too intelligent for his age, too strong for his age, too charismatic; if there ever existed such a concept as "the perfect child", the staff of the adoption agency would claim that the concept was true, that they had the proof living with them._

_Though Mario was a "perfect child", the same could not be said for Luigi._

_Nobody would have guessed that they were brothers. Luigi kept to himself, rarely socializing with the other children. The adults had a harder time communicating with him. Mousy little Luigi never talked except for the occasional "please" and "thank you". Luigi possessed the same polite manners as Mario, but no matter what the adults tried, they could not coax him into a decent conversation._

_It's not that Luigi didn't want to. It's just that he didn't want to meddle around with Mario's friends. Why even try when they only liked Mario? He may give a horrible first impression, and everyone would hate him, and probably make fun of Mario for having a stupid, silly brother. He loved his brother too much to take anything from him._

_So, the other kids avoided him, to the point that they forgot that he lived there. Luigi was fine with that; he kept his spirits up as high as possible, knowing that Mama and Papa would come back to get them._

_Yes, that's what uplifted Luigi's spirits through two of those dingy years. He was so determined that Mama and Papa would come rescue them, take them away from this place. So, he acted the way he did. He didn't want to become attached to anyone. Because he knew about Mario's plan._

_Here's the routine: Mario was all the rage. Parents who yearned for a child of their own heard impressive things about Mario. Attempts were made by several husbands and wives to adopt him. But Mario would not go._

_He would not go unless Luigi came with him._

_But nobody wanted Luigi. He was a child that seemed to be lost, to be disturbed; a child too late to save. Mario, however, did not see it that way. Legs flying, arms punching, tantrums erupting – Mario put up the best fights that he could. And every time it worked. Mario and Luigi were brothers. Nothing would separate them._

_But Mario never thought of his former parents. Only Luigi did. No one knew anything about his little desire, his wishful thinking. But Luigi's world would crash down on him on one dark and stormy night._

_When Mario was eight and Luigi five, the brothers were playing with each other, one of the few rare moments where Mario wasn't being bothered, and when Luigi was smiling. Though, adults never left children unattended. The younger brother had overheard that his parents had died in a horrible car accident._

_Luigi tried to act innocent, pretending he had not heard, and wanted to go back to his room. They allowed him, and that's where, for the first time, hiding in the darkest corner, Luigi cried. His life was hopeless, shattered. Who would want to adopt him, where his brother was all ready the perfect example of a great child? One of these days Mario's scheme wasn't going to work, and Mario would be gone. Forever. Erased from Luigi's life. And he would shrivel into dust, bare an unwanted sign around his neck, and die within the cold shadows of frosty death._

_Luigi did not know how long he had cried for, but an arm had wrapped around his shoulders. Through tears, he saw Mario…crying. Blubbering like an infant. So…unlike him._

_The two embraced, cramped in that dark corner, and cried the night away. Mario was never going leave Luigi, no matter what._

_Actually, Mario was going to leave. Permanently. And Luigi as well._

_The next day stank of ugliness and dismalness. Luigi was in his usual saddened state. But what troubled the adults, and even some of the children, was that Mario portrayed Luigi as an exact replica. He bore no signs of his grandiose nature. The workers were baffled, and kept extra eyes glued on the two. That was easy; Mario would not leave his brother's side._

_Though, their lives would forever change at bathroom break. Mario and Luigi were brushing their teeth, watching their reflections stare blankly back at them. Mario had tried to hook his toothbrush back onto the rack on the wall, but it slipped from his fingers, and tunneled down into the bathtub drain. Annoyed, he hopped into the bathtub, pressing his eye against the drain, seeing if his toothbrush was within reach. Disappointed, Mario turned to climb out of the tub._

_Only something wasn't allowing him._

_The next thing Luigi knew, Mario was roaring bloody-murder, his screams echoing for help. Footsteps ruffled outside, then a hammering at the door, people yelling and arguing to open the door, Mario and Luigi please open the door, we're here to help you._

_Luigi didn't remember locking to door. Or closing it for that matter._

_There was another noise that overpowered all the screaming and yelling. Over by the bathtub. Might have been an engine running in water, or a huge vacuum cleaner turned on, making splotchy slurps. Luigi shook his head to wake himself up._

Mario! Mario was in there! I've got to help him!

_He sprinted to the tub. Unfortunately, his bare feet slipped out from under him, and he toppled headfirst into the back of the tub._

_Shaking his head, blood seeping down his forehead, Luigi tried to stand up, but stopped in a push-up position when he saw Mario._

_It was like from the pages of some Stephen King novel. The drain had enlarged, nearly to the diameter of a basketball rim. The drain had risen about six inches, baring a greenish color on the piping. One could have mistaken it for a giant mouth, sucking in mouthfuls of air. And Mario._

_All ready, Mario's legs had disappeared down the green drain. His older brother clawed at the tub, but his fingers continuously slipped on the smooth surface. Fear drooled in Mario's eyes; for the first time in Luigi's life, Mario resembled a child._

_What Luigi did next was the only thing that made sense. He grabbed for Mario's hands, and when they locked, pulled as hard as his little muscles allowed. _

_The sucking sounds augmented, now pulling both Mario and Luigi. And before he even had time to register what was going on, he rocketed headfirst down the drain, still holding onto Mario's hands. Darkness crowded him. He seemed to be moving, but he had no idea where. The only thing Luigi could think of at the time was the starry night. Big, dark, and scary – but without the stars. Luigi couldn't even hear Mario's screams anymore._

_Then Luigi died._

_*****_

_Or at least he thought he did._

_Luigi woke up to Mario shaking him. His eyes held not fear, but concern for his little brother. As soon as he saw Luigi was awake, Mario smiled wearily, and tried to lift Luigi in his arms. Because Luigi was tall for his age, he failed, and instead looped one of Luigi's arm over his shoulders and helped him to his feet, using himself to support Luigi's weight._

_Thank goodness Mario acted as support, because he would have fallen over and fainted at what he saw._

_The two brothers were not in the adoption center. Instead, they were out in the wilderness, surrounded by shrubbery, blue sky, gnarled trees, chirping birds…_

_Before either of them could speak, the bushes behind them rustled, and out popped a middle-aged mustached man, wearing a doctor's coat and a stethoscope. Though he had taken them by surprise, his eyes read a different story. There was a gentle twinkling in them, a fatherly love blazing within. He didn't approach them either. He just stood there, arms in his coat pockets._

_Then he spoke, with a voice that melted Luigi's heart._

"_I thought I heard something over here. Hello there. I'm Dr. Mario."_

*****

_Dr. Mario had become their surrogate father, taking him into his home. He provided food, shelter, an education, and love. Never had Luigi felt so comfortable and wanted in his life. Dr. Mario, his father, read to him at bedtime, played baseball with him, taught him how to drive a car, but most of all, was all ways there for him._

_Though, Luigi never forgot about where he had come from, about his parents. He didn't cry about it anymore, but every morning, as soon as he woke up, Luigi would whisper a little prayer, telling Mama and Papa that everything was OK, and that they could sleep peacefully and not worry about him anymore._

_Dr. Mario, Mario, and Luigi bonded as father and sons for twelve years. Whether it was because they lived with him, Luigi couldn't figure out, but as grew older, his appearance shadowed that of Dr. Mario's. The only way Luigi could tell them apart was that Dr. Mario's head had a little gray in them. He _really_ looked like their father._

_When Mario was twenty-one and Luigi eighteen, Dr. Mario finally revealed the secret. The big one. The reason that they were sucked down a bathtub drain and brought into this world. _

_They had entered a warp pipe. Warp pipes were a mode of transportation in this world, another way to get around fast when there was no car available. But for some reason, this warp pipe led to another dimension. Warp Pipes only do this for one concrete reason…_

_They were destined to become saviors._

*****

_That same summer, Dr. Mario and his sons moved to the Mushroom Kingdom, where the doctor's main offices were at. Several years ago, Dr. Mario studied medicine, searching for cures for every disease. Time had been good to the doctor because, at a measly age of thirty-two, he had discovered cures for nearly every single disease. Cancer, leukemia, arthritis: you name it. He had become the most well-respected, most envied, most loved man in the Mushroom Kingdom. But the one that laughed at him just beyond his reach was the common cold; the good doctor just could not crack the code._

_Deciding that peace and quiet might help him think better, Dr. Mario moved from the Mushroom Kingdom, over to the outskirts of Sarasaland. Here, he hoped to fit the jigsaws together and overcome his enemy, the common cold. But he discontinued his studies when he discovered Mario and Luigi in the forest. He could sense a glow, a brightness emanating from these two individuals, a feeling that he had never encountered before._

_Dr. Mario was not a selfish man. On any other circumstance, he would have made sure that these two boys were living in a good home, with a good family, and not stopping to find one until they did. However, a pain twitched in the back of his head. Dr. Mario was a hundred percent positive that he did not think these next words. That the pain in the back of his head all most…vibrated a message into his mind. That he, and only he, must protect these children and become their father._

_The doctor could not say no. It just felt so…right. So, Dr. Mario raised the children himself, living on the brim of Sarasaland until Mario and Luigi were adults. Then one night, the pain in the back of his head returned, and implemented another message – the story and reasons that the two brothers had come to this world, and told him to explain everything to them._

_Dr. Mario told about the pains in his head, about his career, about him finding them, about why they had come to this world. And the message also said that that same summer, they were to move back to the Mushroom Kingdom so he, Dr. Mario, could continue his research._

_The boys did not object nor accuse their father of being a loon. They loved him too much to ponder such things. And after all the accomplishments and awards the doctor had won, and after all the times they had spent together, the brothers would believe anything their father told them._

_The three concluded that their meeting wasn't just by accident. A deity, a force, an energy: something, made sure that Mario and Luigi were sucked into a warp pipe, and that Dr. Mario was to find them and raise them._

_But why, they did not know…yet._

_*****_

_Dr. Mario bought a house near his offices, beckoning his sons to live with him. But they refused, believing that it was time for them to start making a living of their own. Hurt but understanding, Dr. Mario offered a few thousand dollars and let them go._

_The brothers bought a mushroom shaped house and settled in, but both knew that they needed to find jobs. They thought about it for days, throwing suggestions and pitching ideas, but all seemed to strike out. One day, Luigi found the answer in a phone book. The Plumber's Academy._

_With a little help financially from their father, Mario and Luigi completed four years of training, graduating first and second in their class, respectively. The brothers then opened up a business, titled 'Mario Bros. Plumbing Service – You Clog Them, We Drain Them." Business was slow at first, the money they were making just barely getting them by, but as more customers called for them, the Toads really appreciated their generosity and good-nature, plus they were able to fix any leak – real cheap. Toads passed a good word about the Mario bros. to the other Toads, and in three short years, Mario and Luigi were living on piles of money._

_The Mario Bros. were living great lives, praying to Mama and Papa that they would have been proud of them. As long as they had each other, nothing could go wrong._

_But yet again, destiny whispered in their ears as they received a phone call from the King himself, ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom._

_*****_

_While fixing a leaky faucet in the catacombs of the castle, the ground started to quake and the walls started to rumble. Then a sound – like that of a dinosaur roar – echoed through the walls, followed by a girl's scream. Mario and Luigi raced back to the throne room, only to find the aftermath of a war. Toads painted the walls and floor, while the King sat in his chair, only now a charred skeleton._

_News spread about the attack on the castle. King Bowser, a reptilian tyrant of a haunted, dark kingdom, had captured Princess Peach. If the mushrooms didn't let him become ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, he would slit the Princess's throat and declare war. And just to show that he wasn't joking, he obliterated the King and some of his knights._

_Upon hearing the news, the pain in the back of Dr. Mario's head returned, encoding yet another message. He visited his sons, relaying the message. It was the reason why they had been brought to this world, but not simply as saviors._

_To go rescue the Princess. To unravel their futures as heroes. To become legends._

_*****_

_From there on, Mario and Luigi had saved the Mushroom Kingdom several times, and even other neighboring lands, like Sarasaland. They were living up to their destinies. _

_But only Mario seemed to have reached that status._

_It was like the adoption center all over again. Everyone gave Mario the attention and credit, forgetting that Luigi even existed._

_But, both his brother and father never left his side. His father kept telling him, day after day, that someday, his time will come. _

_Then, the invitations to the Smash Mansion had come._

_Now, Luigi was a somebody._

*****

Luigi sprawled out on his bed, dressed only in boxers. He gazed at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, smiling.

Since the beginning of the Smash tournament, Luigi had changed the lives of four Smashers, cranking them out of their shells and shining a new light into their faces. They had all felt like he had before, lost and unwanted. Actually, he never intended to fix their lives…it just sort of happened. Like something was drawing him…

With four of the best friends he ever had, a father who loves him, and a brother who would do anything for him, Luigi could not have been happier. But did he really make that much of a difference? What kind of person do his friends view him as? Was he ever going achieve his destiny? He had too, right? That's what destiny is – it's supposed to happen.

Dropping his gaze from the ceiling to his nightstand, Luigi looked at the time. He smiled, nodded his head, and lazily trodded from his bed, over to his clothes. He stuffed himself in his green and blue attire, scratched his mustache, and wondered over to the mirror.

He was meeting with his friends for a picnic at three o'clock. But, in order to have a picnic, they needed a packed lunch. Since he was the best cook, they volunteered him to pack everything. He didn't mind. He actually loved to cook. Though, he wasn't going to have a basket full of food packed by standing in front of his mirror.

Smiling, Luigi fitted his hat on and humbled through his door, locking it.

The door across from him was his brother's, also locked. Luigi remembered what Peach said about Mario going out somewhere for the day. He recalled Mario telling him a few days ago that he would be leaving town pick something up, but didn't say much else. Luigi didn't want to pry into Mario's private life, so he resisted asking about where he was going.

_I bet it's probably a present for Peach. Man, my brother will do anything for that woman! I hope we don't go bankrupt because of her._

Thinking of Peach reminded him of her wiggling ass.

If only he could light a stick on fire and jam it in his ear, hoping to burn the image from his mind.

Freshly showered, clothes sparkling, eyes twinkling, Luigi ambled down the hall.

If Luigi would have left his room ten minutes earlier, he would have smelled his ultimate destiny, the road that would pedestal him as a legend. A hero of a thousand worlds.

And that destiny reeked of garlic, BO, and crap…

**Who are the four Smashers? You'll find out soon enough…**


	8. What Every Hormonal Guy Wants to See

**Few Notes: First, the story will kind of branch out in two directions, the people at the picnic and the people not at the picnic. But don't worry, it'll all come together.**

**Second, when I introduce one of Luigi's friends, there'll be a story about their past, then back to the present time. And the next chapter will be about how they met.**

**Stay with me on this. If I pull this off right, this will probably have one of the funniest endings and be one of the most original stories on the site. I hope.**

**Well, enjoy.**

_She remembered when her parents vanished from her life._

_A cold, voided night. Prowling through the galaxies. Her father at the wheel, her mother sitting next to him._

_She had loved her parents, and they loved her back. For two years now, since she was born, they had traveled the galaxy, offering help to planets. Whether it be war, finance, rebuilding, finding a lost child; the Great Galactic Guarding Group, which her parents founded and leaded, never faced a challenge they couldn't complete. _

_But they weren't alone. Thousands have joined the cause, traveling with her and her parents. One big ship, fitted for so many people? No, there were five ships total, containing all together a total of 5,500 fighters. They formatted into a small community, living in space, only leaving when called for duty. Everyone was friendly, cared for each other, started families – it was the perfect world, built with the very hands of her mother and father._

_For their efforts, the planets honored them, declaring them as the most formidable heroes of the galaxy. They were revered and loved, as more and more people joined the GGGG._

_But her world died on that one, faithless, cold night. A night that cracked the darkness, raged into the ship's interior, and blanketed the crew with a dead, hateful laugh._

_Literally._

_Her father, the pilot at the time, received a distress signal from one of the sister ships. Space Pirates. Pillaging, raping, killing the crew and their families._

_She was there, in her mother's arms. Her father never looked so shattered, a zombie with no emotion. Alarms sounded. Sirens wailed. Her father, still at the wheel, demanded that she and her mother barricade themselves inside the engine room, deep in the epicenter of the ship. Her mother refused, a plethora of tears rivering down. They argued. They screamed. He would have none._

_Behind them, footsteps banged erratically, guns cocked, children yelling for their moms and dads to come back. Soldiers preparing for the worst. The very worst._

_Her mother wanted to stay, she just wouldn't leave her baby's father behind. But he had had enough. A fist connected to her mother's cheek, knocking her aloof, and shutting her up._

_Her father only stared at her. Millions of emotions tornadoed in those eyes: love, anger, concern, sadness. And that was enough to make her mother flee to the epicenter._

_She looked back at her father, fire in his muscles, a gun gleaming at his side._

_That was the last time she ever saw him._

_Still in her mother's arms, they fled to the epicenter. People were everywhere, scurrying down the stairs like rats. They climbed over each other, stampeded over others, several screaming in agony. Her mother was knocked around like a pinball machine, the people too shocked to care._

_Then the rumbling started. Explosions. Roars. Death. Everything was so loud that it made her ears hurt._

_The ship rumbled like an earthquake, tossing people around like bouncy balls. Her mother flailed to the side, denting her head on the cool steeled wall, and slumped to the ground, with she still in her arms. More explosions, more death, more roars. But then everything stopped, like someone flipped the off switch. The alarms died. The people silenced. Nothing moved. Darkness._

_But then it turned back on. A roar split the air. Something inhuman. _

_Then something that sounded like bat wings. Getting closer._

_Human screams joined in chorus with the inhuman roars. But there seemed to be less human, more inhuman. And other sounds pierced the air. Wet sounds, like a sword slashing through something squishy. Then thuds hitting the ground. Sounds like someone chewing. And eggs being crushed. She felt droplets of warm liquid spatter her face. The noise, oh the noise…_

_Suddenly, her mother moved. For some reason, she dropped her, her mother scratching against the metal. Her mother didn't yell for her, or say anything at all. She just…left._

_But then, she could feel another presence in the darkness. Something large, its body scraping the sides of the narrow corridor._

_Then a crunching. And a splatter. More gooey liquid squirted on her face, some of it getting into her eyes. Then a thud, inches from her. Whatever lurked in the darkness, over the fading screams of the chaos, she heard it breathing. And felt it. A sickly, putrid smell, kind of like dead fish. _

_The light bulb above her flickered on, sprouting a faint glow. That was enough to kill her happiness for the rest of her life._

_Looming in the shadows arched a beast. It had scaly, and warty, purple skin. Its head was shaped that of a pterodactyl, but more reptilian. Long arms dangled at its side, it fingers harboring long, bloody claws. Its knife-like teeth were also bloody. And its wings were tucked behind its back, barely able to fit in the tiny corridor._

_The monster's yellow eyes looked into hers, an insane glee foaming in them. And he _laughed_. Like a thousand fingernails scraping against a chalkboard. She would never forget that laugh. But that's the last thing she heard, as the monster lifted one clawed hand over its head, and arched it down, right onto her head._

_*****_

Samus's face twisted in anger.

_C'mon, damn you. C'mon! Hook!_

Her teeth clenched, biting down hard enough to have snapped a metal pole in half.

_Ah! C'mon! I just bought these! How could it be too small all ready?!_

Sweat trickled down her forehead, the blood vessels in her eyes threatening to implode.

_Oh! Almost there! Errgghhh….Yes! Whoo!_

With a final push, the bra hook clasped behind her. She let out a sigh and relaxed her body.

Clad in her bra and panties, Samus observed herself in the mirror. She reminded herself to go buy bigger bras next time. It probably wouldn't be her proudest moment if she fainted from lack of air during a match. Because of her bra.

Other than that, she looked OK. Showered. Didn't smell. Hair clean. No BO. Eh, presentable enough.

_Oh, gosh, I couldn't imagine what that freaky Captain Falcon and Snake would do if she walked out into the hall like _this_. Probably drool themselves to death. Or maybe even a heart attack._

Samus rolled her eyes. At least they wouldn't bother her anymore.

Someone knocked at her door.

_Oh no. Could they seriously read her thoughts now? This is ridiculous!_

She grabbed her paralyzer, grinning all too evil to be innocent.

"Who is it?" She called out, trying to sound as girly-girl as possible.

_Hm. A bit rusty. Might need some work on that. Eh, who the hell am I kidding? I'd sound like someone's bitch._

To her surprise, the response wasn't a deep, gruffy voice or a manly, macho voice. A towel of relief wiped her face as she realized it wasn't some haggler looking to get some. But she smiled when she knew who it belonged too.

Positioning her paralyzer back where she found it, Samus walked over to her door, but didn't open it. She pressed her ear against the door.

"Is there anyone else out there?"

A muffled voice replied, "No. Just me."

Samus opened the door, a smiling Luigi greeting her. His face suddenly expressed surprise and he shot an arm over his eyes.

"Samus! You're all most na –"

She grabbed his other arm and tugged him inside, quickly slamming the door shut. She gestured a finger over her mouth to a startled Luigi.

"Shh! Don't say it! Those goons will be scratching at my door even if it's only a shoe I'm taking off."

"Sorry," he said meekly. His arm was still blocking his sight. "But, you're in your…um…un…der…wear."

Samus smiled and walked away from him, over to the dresser. As she rummaged through her clothes, she watched his reflection in the mirror next to her.

"I trust you, Luigi. You don't look at me like those other nitwits do."

He hesitated, but he did lower his arm to his side. He still would not look at her, though. His eyes now interested in the floor, he twiddled his thumbs.

"I just came in to see if you wanted to help me pack for the picnic today. It would go faster if there was more than one person."

Struggling into a pair of shorts, Samus turned to Luigi, "Yea. Sure. I'm not very good at that stuff though." She pulled her shorts on, hugging her with a *snap*. "I've been known to burn water before."

"There's not much to it. All we really need to make are sandwiches. We just throw in anything else that seems edible."

Samus shrugged into a tank-top, adjusting the straps. "I know you, Luigi. But put a spatula in your hand, and you go nuts."

Luigi, still not looking at her, nodded sheepishly, "Hee. Yea, I do."

She smiled. He could be so child-like sometimes.

"Well, whaddaya think? Fit for a picnic?" She turned in a circle.

No longer embarrassed now that she had clothes on, Luigi looked up and faked a picture frame with his fingers.

"Oh yes! Marvelous! That'd certainly go on the cover of Playdude."

Samus grabbed a pillow from her bed and chucked it playfully at Luigi, bopping his hat off.

"Oh, you're a funny guy. And I suppose you're fitted for the most handsome man in the world? You're just wearing the same get-up you always do."

Luigi strutted around the room, swaying his hips, and said sexily, "Oh, I have to maintain an image."

Samus rolled her eyes and closed her dresser drawers. She said, "You know, if you keep annoying me like that, one of these days I _am_ going to kill you."

"And you know what, I believe you."

Luigi smiled. She smiled back.

Luigi looked over at the clock on her dresser. His eyes bugged out a little, but he continued to smile.

"Well, we better get moving. They'll clobber us if we show up without any food."

Samus nodded while Luigi fitted his hat back on his head. They walked side by side to the door. Samus opened to door let him out first. He nodded back a "thank you".

Samus asked "Say, where's ****?"

"Exploring in the woods. He's going to meet us there."

"And ****?"

"Outside playing with the younger Smashers. We'll pick him up on the way."

"OK. And ****?"

"Him? To be honest, I'm not sure where he is. We'll look for him after we make the food."

They walked out into the hallway, Samus locking her door behind her. They stood there for a bit, staring at each other.

Samus broke the silence, "Luigi?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you entered my life."

He cheeks tinged a little with red, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"I know you are. Thank you."

He looked up again, eyes twinkling, and gestured her to follow him down the hallway, toward the kitchen to pack some food.

**I hope you guys like this so far. Gnarly.**


	9. Bounty Huntress Meets Plumber

_The bounty huntress sulked down the hallway, angry tears flittering down her cheeks._

_So far, her stay at the Smash Mansion had all but dissolved the little confidence she had left, most of it demolished after the murder of her parents. _

_After The GGGG had been attacked, the ships crashed onto a nearby planet. The Chozo, the inhabitants of the planet, wandered through the debris and found Samus. Sensing that she possessed an unnatural power within her, they adopted her and trained her through the way of the Chozo. _

_As an adult, Samus trekked the wonders of the galaxy, working as a successful bounty huntress. Her name sparked fear in even the toughest bad guys; no matter how clever they hid themselves, she would all ways be knocking at their doorstep. And she made a decent living that way._

_On her time off, she searched for the bastard that killed her parents. Ridley. Leader of the Space Pirates. She yearned to avenge her parents, to put a bullet right between the monster's eyes. But for years he stayed out of her reach – "The one that got away"._

_Her life was a lonely one. She trusted no one, and refused to become attached to people. She did not want people to be taken away from again, like her parents had._

_Alone, running through the endless tunnel, searching for an exit. Hoping that her parents would reach out, take her hand, and guide her to the end…_

_Only someone else did. But not before the other guy tried to stop her…_

_Hurrying to her room, her nose swallowed a stingy odor, lingering in the hall._

_She halted and situated into a shooting position, ready to pull her paralyzer gun out. Her crying about her past now the least of her worries._

_Trouble. That's what it smelled like._

_Pacing herself, she tip-toed down the hall, further into the darkness. The walls, the floor, the ceiling – they appeared to laugh at her, mock her. Then Ridley was among them, his laugh most audible, growing, growing in size, growing closer, right next to her ear…_

_A whoopee cushion spluttered from the darkness ahead._

_The laughs disappeared, but another one surfaced. A deep, gurgled guffaw. _

_The paralyzer gun hummed on, waiting for whatever it was to greet her from the darkness._

_Silence. Stillness. Only the sound of the ticking of her heart._

_Then out emerged from the darkness the sweatiest, fattest, ugliest, foulest, and most repulsive thing Samus had ever lay eyes on. Oh yes, during her bounty huntress travels around the galaxy, she encountered species of all kinds, some so slimy, some so putrid, some so unbearable to look at. Her training prepared her for the worst. But never had she had to turn away from an enemy. She even tasted vomit boiling in her throat._

_The man stopped when he noticed her. He grinned and shifted his eyebrows up and down._

"_Oh-ho! A present for the Great Wario. I am the Great Wario, the greatest in the world!"_

_He posed and waved to an invisible crowd. Samus lowered her paralyzer gun a bit and rolled her eyes. He acted like a buffoon, much like the other Smashers. Probably wanted to put a comedy act on for her._

_He snapped his attention back to her when she chuckled. He still grinned, but there was no humor in it this time. _

"_I, the Great Wario, indulge in sex. Prepare to be aroused by the greatest!"_

_Madness burned in his eyes as he licked his lips, hobble/stomping toward her with outstretched hands. The comedy show was over._

_She fired her paralyze gun, a yellow electrical cord eeling out of it, snaking right toward the fat man._

_Direct hit! The cord hooked inside his gaping mouth, surging hundreds of bolts through his body._

_Whether his enormous mounds of fat insulated him, she didn't know, but the paralyzer did not faze him. Worse, an even bigger toothy grin darkened the room, and her gun zoomed out of her hand faster than Sonic the Hedgehog. Samus watched in horror as the yellow-garbed man slurped up the cord and gun, like it was a string of spaghetti._

_Crazier than any of the other Smashers that have tried to hit on her, Samus knew it was going to take more than a wallop to the face to knock him out. So she turned and ran back the way she had come, the scrungy man bubbling right on her heels. She figured with her athletic ability versus his disastrous obesity, she'd outrun him. He looked like he'd croak from a heart attack if he were to try and follow._

_Boy, was she wrong. Turning this way, turning that way, dodging around tables, zig-zagging through corridors; she couldn't lose him. And he was gaining on her._

_As she sprinted down another hallway, she felt like she was in a 'house of mirrors'. Corridor after corridor, mazing this way and that. Circus music blared from nowhere, the walls sneered with vibrant colors, everything spinning around her. And the fat man laughing, resembling an evil clown's laugh, thundering the walls, pinching her brain. Louder and louder. _

_She called for help, but to no avail. Her cries made the fat man laugh even harder. She was alone. All ways to be alone…_

_An arm shot out from an open door and snatched her hand. Too surprised to fight back, she was pulled into a darkened room._

_Normally when cornered, Samus resorted to martial arts, and most of the time kicked her assailant's ass. However, upon gazing into the man's twinkling eyes, she ceased struggling. Kindness, love, concern - traits she had never been in contact with since her parents had died. Her heart swelled up, drumming faster and faster. The man's touch was not hard, but soft, encompassing, trusting._

_The man gestured a finger to his mouth and pointed to the door, indicating the fat man might hear them. Then he sprinted to the back of the room, pulling Samus with him. She did not resist._

_Musical instruments dotted the room. Pianos, guitars, bongos, drum sets, ocarinas – Samus deduced that they were in a sort of music room. They ran between instruments, zig-zagging this way and that. There were quite a number of smart hiding places that the instruments provided, some of them the fat man would easily overlook. But to her surprise, when they reached the far, far back corner, he stopped in front of a box._

_He lifted the front of the box with one hand, pointing inside it with the other. That's the best he could do, when they could escape from a vent or use the items in this room as weapons?_

_The laughing outside drew closer, more sadistic than ever._

_Noticing her hesitation, the hand that he had been pointing with wrapped around her waist, pulling her down onto her hands and knees. Still holding the box, he crouched down to his knees and pushed on her backside, scooting them forward until they were under the box. Just as the man lowered it, the fat man bellowed at the doorway._

_Though scrunched up behind the man, Samus could see out the box through little eyeholes. She huddled against the strange man, for some reason feeling at ease around him. He did not look at her, or even fidget, only stared out through the hole at the fat man._

_The fat man, whom he called himself Wario, paused at the doorway. It was hard to see the expression he had on his face._

"_Here's Wario!!!!"_

_What he did next seemed random and unnecessary, but nevertheless, he grabbed the door and tore it off its hinges, cannonballing it out into the hallway._

_Wario squeezed through the door, snickering. Samus watched him turn his head, most likely scanning the room._

"_The Great Wario yearns for sex. I need a spanking. Last time was by my mother thirty years ago."_

_Samus really didn't need to know that._

_When he couldn't find them from his position, he snarled and punched a fist into an open hand. Immediately, he sneered again. He bent over the piano next to him, and like a bloodhound, sniffed all over the piano. He cooed an "Oooo", then faced their direction, right above their hiding place. He then shuffled over to a xylophone and did the same thing. Then a tuba. Then another piano._

_Samus tensed up, her mind rattling in her head. Impossible to believe, but Wario was tracking their scent. And he was coming closer._

_Though what happened next should have resulted with them being caught, but the heavens were working in their favor. _

_Wario farted._

_The soupy sound of the fart isn't what disgusted Samus. The stench; it crawled into the box with them. She felt like gagging, screaming at the top of her lungs._

_She _was_ about to yell, but the man pocketed a hand over her mouth, still looking at Wario. He too looked ready to vomit, but he was coping with it better than she was._

_Wario seemed distressed, confused. Because of his farting, he lost their scent and could only smell his own. Frustrated and defeated, the fat man lifted a piano over his head and missiled it through the door, creating a piano-sized entrance way. He grumbled out to the hallway and was gone._

_Samus started to get up, but the man's hand remained on her mouth. Still looking through the hole, he gestured a "hold on"._

_They scrunched under the box for another minute, but when Wario did not come back, the two lobbed the box over and lunged out the piano-sized hole, gasping for air._

_When he caught his breath, the man stretched an open hand to her, ready for a handshake._

"_Wow. That sucked. At least we made it in one piece. My name's Luigi. What's –"_

_She didn't let him finish. Samus engulfed him in a bear hug. Because he was shorter than she was, his legs dangled above the ground._

_Luigi, obviously suffocating, managed to squeak out,"Yo..you…re…wel….co…come."_

_For the first time in her life, since the slaughtering of her parents decades ago, Samus was happy. She had found that hand. And he would lead her out the tunnel, exposing her to the light she had all ways dreamed for._


	10. Kirby Sleepy

Kirby full.

Kirby tired. Sleep. Kirby like sleep. Sleep best friend to Kirby.

Kirby walk down hall. Turn corner. Ike walk. Face in book. Kirby taste book before. Book food. Kirby like food.

Ike look up from book. Smile. Kirby wave Ike. Ike look down at Kirby. Kirby smile. Ike not smile. Ike drop book. Pull hair out. Kirby still wave. Ike scream. Ike turn. Run away. Kirby still wave. Ike best friend to Kirby.

Kirby skip down hallway. Kirby go to sleep place.

Kirby at stairs. Ness walk. Play yo-yo. Popo talk at Ness. Kirby want hug Ness. Kirby walk to Ness. Kirby hug Ness.

Ness drop yo-yo. Gasp. Popo yell. Ness push Kirby off. Kirby like games. Popo grab Ness. Run away from Kirby. Kirby run after. Kirby like games.

Ness throw yo-yo at Kirby. Hit Kirby in head. Kirby like games.

Popo try door. Not open. Popo try next door. Not open. Ness look at Kirby. Ness cry. Kirby like games. Kirby smile.

Popo try next door. Door open. Popo talk at Ness. Ness run to Popo. Kirby run after. Kirby smile.

Ness and Popo enter door. Popo shut door. Kirby tap on door. No Popo. No Ness. Door not open. Popo and Ness best friend to Kirby

Sleep. Kirby like sleep. Go to sleep place.

Kirby at stair. Float up. Kirby at end stair. Kirby wave to stair. Kirby wave again after sleep.

Kirby skip down hallway. Room in hall.

Kirby see Sonic. Kirby see Link. Sonic talk at Link. Kirby hop up and down. Kirby like hedgehog. Not spiky like Bowser. Good spiky. Kirby walk to Sonic and Link.

Sonic laugh. Look away. Look down at Kirby. Sonic no laugh. Grab Link. Link look at Kirby. Link not smile. Kirby smile. Kirby want hug.

Link have sword. Sword in both hands. Pointed at Kirby. Link swing around. Kirby like Link. Kirby want hug Link.

Sonic and Link step back. Kirby step. Sonic and Link step back. Kirby step. Want hug. Kirby open arms.

Sonic grab Link. Turn around. Run very fast. Take Link with. Sonic and Link go in wall. Leave hole. Kirby like holes. Sonic and Link best friend to Kirby.

Kirby glad have best friends.

Kirby walk to door. Open. Kirby float on bed. On pillow. Kirby like sleep. Kirby grab blanket. Blanket hug Kirby. Kirby lay down. Kirby like sleep.

Kirby sleep.


	11. Run For Your Lives!

"What?! You have _got _to be pulling my leg!"

"You think I'd be kidding about something like this?! After that deathly threat in the kitchen?! For crying out loud, I saw him with my own two eyes!"

"She sure is psycho. I bet she'd kill him, too. Wait! Master Hand!"

"He and Crazy left. Had to attend some business meeting."

"Then we have to flee!"

"To where?! Everything's closed on a Sunday! And the plaza doesn't open till six! We have to hide for three and a half hours!"

King Dedede wringed his cap, suddenly interested in a centipede scurrying across the carpet. For the first time in his life, Dedede wished he was someone else.

Watching the bug crawl up the wall, he asked Ike, "Are you absolutely sure?"

Ike squashed his face into his hands, muffling back, "Of course I'm sure! He had icing and crumbs smeared all over his face! It's not hard to miss!"

Dedede flapped his cap back on. _Oh Kirby, Kirby, Kirby…your appetite is going to be the death of you yet._

Once Peach realizes that the little blob ate her cake, she'd probably cook him alive and devour him like a wild animal. Yeah, Kirby irked the living daylights out of Dedede, and he foils every single one of his evil plans. But Dreamland without Kirby? Geez, there would be no fun trying to be evil. Sure, nobody would be able to thwart his plans, but once he won…what then? Retire?

Ike composed himself, trying to act more manly. He dipped a hand into his sheath and pulled out his giant sword.

"I fear that he won't be the only one. Once she knows about the cake, she'll come after us, one by one, until the culprit is destroyed."

_Ike, hide from danger?_ That's a first.

Dedede started to walk away, toward the stairs. "But what about Kirby? We can clean him up be-"

Ike grabbed Dedede's arm and jerked him back. Then he started sprinting down the halls, dragging the helpless fat penguin with him.

"He's done for. No time. We've got to hide!"

Ike, dragging Dedede, sprinted the extent of the hallway, reaching the door at the end. Before he could touch the door, a slamming noise from behind it halted him.

Dedede noticed Ike stopped. Too tired to stand up, he called from the ground, "Goodness Ike. I almost had a heart attack! Why did you-"

Ike shushed Dedede and turned back the door, pressing an ear to it.

Silence. Nothing. Maybe his mind was pla-

There! He heard it. Sounded like a…whoopee cushion?

Realizing who it was, Ike turned to flee, but was too late. Another fart erupted from behind the door and it screeched off its hinges, sailing into Ike's back. Ike landed on Dedede, the door pinning them both.

Wario, not seeming to care that two people were under the door, nonchalantly walked on it. Ike's and Dedede's screams pierced the air, melting rust from nails, but Wario was in his own world. He hopped off the door, paused to let another one loose, and proceeded down the hallway, leaving a crippled Ike and a bleeding Dedede to die.

*****

Wario paraded down the hall, once again snickering through a toothy sneer, bits of ham sandwich and pizza clogged between his teeth.

Ah yes, he, the Great Wario, had just munched on a copious of delicacies: doughnuts, cheeseburgers, dog food, baby food, spoiled meat, lard, pop-tarts…the list could go on forever. He patted his belly in satisfaction. He would not need to eat for…oh, say…another two hours or so (Even though the amount of food he ingested equals to the weight of a blue whale).

Assured that he'll survive for another few hours, he looked at his watch. Time for his exercise.

Conveniently stacked right next to him were magazines. A lot of the Smashers had subscribed to magazines before their Smashing days and had asked Master Hand if they could be mailed here. Annoyed, and after some arguing, he reluctantly gave them permission.

_Oh, maybe my new issue is in this week! At least I can read something this time._

Why, there it was, right on the top! _Greedy Bastards Weekly_.

Oh. The headline looks promising: _10 ways to steal money from charities._

Tucking the magazine under an armpit that could curdle milk, Wario strolled to the bathroom. He sung "Wario is the greatest!" while glass cracked and plants shriveled up.

Wario had come to a conclusion. This was the rottenest day of his life. First, he had accomplished one of his most crowning achievements in the bathroom. Then he destroyed the kitchen and indulged in some fine, tasty morsels. And now he had his favorite magazine! He picked his nose with glee.

As he neared the foyer, where the stairs and all the hallways connected, Wario perked an ear out. Screaming. Footsteps pounding.

_They're cheering for me. Me, the Great Wario! Finally, they recognize me as the greatest! Must have been the crap I gave birth to earlier._

Wario ran as fast as his stubby legs could carry him, his knees all most splintering under the pressure of his weight. When he reached the opening he exploded into a jump (which was barely two inches), and landed in a pose, waiting for the cheers to gush at him, the hands to lift him over their heads, exclaiming to the whole world, "Wario is the greatest! Wario is the greatest! Wario is the greastest!"

C'mon; you think that will really happen?

Not yet, anyway.

Instead, the foyer was buzzing with Smashers, running this way, scurrying that way. Some of them were screaming, others were yelling "Hide!". Even Bowser, the most bad-ass of the bunch, was hopping on his tip-toes, unable to make up his mind where to go, yelling in a girlish voice, "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!"

The only one not berserk was Wolf. He was planted at the base of the stairs, his chin resting on a fist. His sharp eyes observed the calamity, pupils shooting from Smasher to Smasher. His canines bared a wicked smile, probably enjoying himself.

But he wasn't, no, not the Great Wario. How dare everyone run from him?! By golly, they should be licking his feet right now!

Demanding an explanation, Wario slingshot his girth over to Wolf.

Wolf's ears twitched behind his head as Wario drew near. Not taking his eyes off the other Smashers, he growled, "Ah, Wario. How come you're not running around like a headless chicken?" He licked his lips after mentioning chicken.

Wario chided, "How dare they ignore the presence of the Great Wario! What is the meaning of this disobedience?"

Wolf's eyes narrowed into slits, his canines in a snarl. Still not looking at Wario, he barked, "They're not running from you, dumbass," He smiled again. "Kirby ate Peach's cake, and now they're all trying to hide before she finds out. And you're not great."

Traitors! What has this Peach done to them?! No wonder they treated him like a commoner. The stupid princess had them under some mind control!

Wario's rotten mood flushed down the toilet.

"How dare you insult the Great Wario, servant!"

Wolf raised his head and locked eyes with Wario, snarling, "Me, a servant to you?! That'll never happen in your fat-ass life."

"Oh, on the contrary. When I destroy Peach, I will be recognized as the greatest!"

Wolf returned to his original posture, "Yea. You go do that."

The fat man scrambled up the stairs, foaming at the mouth, bent on one notion. To eliminate the Princess. She blocked his path to greatness, and now she deserved to die! And he really had to unload a dump! What blasphemy, interrupting his schedule!

Head steaming, Wario arrived at Peach's door, charging up for a massive shoulder barge…

*****

Wolf absentmindedly watched the chaos, more focused on his thoughts.

What the hell was everyone's problem? It's Peach! He could take her down with a single claw. She was too stupid to even differentiate himself from Fox. Where were the similarities?!

And that dumbass Wario. Berating him for being a lousy servant? A servant?! What kind of man does he think he his? Going around yelling at people to obey him and worship him.

He, Wolf, a loyal minion to the "Great" Wario. Like that will ever happen.

Right?


	12. Butts of Fury

"_And the winner is…Peach!"_

_The audience, stretching all the way to the horizo , stood up and applauded, whistled between their fingers, guys lifting their shirts up to show a letter, spelling the word PEACH… Everyone in the world was here to see her. Guys wanted to be with her, gals wanted to _be_ her. She was the sun; the world revolved around _her_._

_And finally, they had come to their senses and realized what kind of person she was._

_The most perfect person in the world._

_Peach walked down the stage aisle while spotlights, lights from helicopters, every light in the world, watching her every sexy walk and smile. She waved to the people, blowing kisses. They cheered harder. She smiled wider. They cheered even harder. She wiggled her hips. Some of the men passed out._

_And there, at the end of the aisle, towered a trophy that puts the Empire State Building to shame. But it wasn't just…_any _trophy. 700 tons. Made out of solid gold, glazed with diamonds. Painted gloriously in pink. And her beautiful, perfect face etched right on the front._

_She started drooling, spit dripping off her tongue. Her pupils constricted until they disappeared. Her crown spun right off her head, into the crowd._

_She deserved everything. Plus more._

_Peach charged for the trophy, arms extended out, hands opening and closing. Thirty yards. Twenty yards. Ten yards. She could see her reflection. Such a perfect reflection..._

_Then, like in a movie, everything turned slow-motion. Everything except for a crazed fan, who climbed up to the aisle and hobble/stomped toward her._

_She never saw such an ugly, sweaty, gagging, fat, and greasy man in her life. His clothes, though a suit and tie, had food stains; a little spaghetti sauce on the shoulder, a splotch of soup on the breast pocket. His face sneered, a sneer so evil it made pedophiles look innocent and charming. Oh no…_

_Peach tried to stop, run away, punch herself in the head to end her misery. But nothing worked. She couldn't control herself. It was like he was a magnet, she a piece of metal. And the magnetism pulling her. Closer. Closer…_

_Until she was inches from his face. He grabbed her by the shoulders. She struggled, but it was like trying to escape from a bear trap._

"_Get ready for Wario!" he bellowed, and proceeded to shake her, her brain rattling around in her skull._

"_Get ready for Wario!"_

_Gosh, his breath reeked of garlic. The aroma strangled her. Suffocating._

_Garlic. Garlic. Garlic…_

_*****_

"Get ready for Wario!"

_Aaahhh!!!_

She surged awake and bonked her head on a surface above her. Groggily, she looked at her surroundings.

"Where…Where am I?"

Wherever she was, it was dark. And cramped. She made contact with objects as she blindly swiped her arms around. Didn't help a bit, though. However, there was light up ahead…perhaps she was spelunking in a narrow cave? What was she doing in such a place?

Wait a minute.

Who was she?

Her mind spun like a top, swirling with red, blue, green, yellow…oh, it made her dizzy. Little globs of colored light started dancing in the darkness, some doing the polka, others quirking out an Irish jig.

"Get ready for Wario. It's time for you to die!!"

Voices. Voices everywhere. Whispering from out of the darkness, calling her, caressing her, burning her. Tiny, hairy fingers oozed up her spine.

She had to get out.

Feeling around the floor like a blind person, head still spinning, she tried to slither to the light. Only, she didn't budge. Something was holding her back. Behind her, she saw her butt, jammed at what she proposed was the opening. She wiggled back and forth, but her butt didn't dislodge.

The tiny, hairy fingers stopped at the nape of her neck.

Fear gripped her. Not knowing where she was, who she was, stuck in darkness, she flailed about. Banging her head on the surface above. Scratching her arms on the objects around her. The voices, the colors, spinning around…

An aroma pinched her nose.

"Not answering, eh? Then get ready, 'cause I, the Great Wario, am coming in!"

What? That aroma. It smelled somewhat…familiar.

She paused for a second, curious. Maybe if she could figure out what the smell was, then she might have a few answers to her questions.

Wait. Was it garlic? Yes, garlic! She remembered something else, too. Hm. Whoever she was, wasn't she allergic to garlic?

The aroma tickled her nose, the hairs laughing in agony. The sensation tunneled to the front of her brain, fuzzying up and making it itchy.

She…had…to...sneeze…

*****

What happened next would be the closest thing to sex that Wario will ever get in his life.

The sneeze equaled in power to an atomic bomb, because Peach rocketed backwards from out under the bed, actually flipping it upside down. Her nose blowing like the fires from a rocket ship, her butt portraying the pointy nose, she blasted toward the door.

Wario, who was on the other side, had begun to shoulder barge into the door. He had no inkling of what had just happened inside her room, because in the next second, Peach's butt splintered the door in two and zoomed right toward Wario.

In that split second, Wario dropped his jaw in shock. Unfortunately (or fortunately, however way you want to look at it), her butt targeted his open maw and plugged it up entirely.

Hysterical, Wario ran around in a circle and flailed his arms, the princess partially stuck in his mouth. Screaming, she squirmed about, trying to pry herself out, while muffled screams came from Wario. He couldn't see where he was running, and he splatted right into the wall.

The force of the collision caused Wario to snap his neck back, and the pressure on his stomach made him exhale, popping Peach out like a cork. She landed on a heap behind him, though, not before smacking her head against the floor, knocking her unconscious.

Birds buzzing around his head, Wario stumbled in a daze. This caused him to trip over himself and fall into the basement door directly across from Peach's room. His head connected with the doorknob, punching it out of place. Plus, his enormous bulk ripped the door off its hinges, and he sledded down the steps, the door as the sled.

He slid down dozens of steps, until the door jammed between the fourth-to-last and third-to-last step. Because of how the stairs were slanted, the door slid down the hole in the opposite direction. However, inertia caused the top of the door to keep moving forward, which then catapulted Wario into the wall, resulting in the Mansion shaking.

After Wario fell to the ground on his back, two more things happened. Though the door caught a hole in the stairs, the inertia was too powerful to make it stop. It climbed out of the hole, tumbled down the stairs like a domino, and crushed down right on top of Wario. And because of the mini-earthquake, a giant piece of the ceiling crumbled out, landed on the door, and squashed Wario like a bug.

Not quite sex, but just as pleasurable. Remember, it's Wario we're talking about.

*****

_What? What happened? Wasn't I stuck under the bed before? And how in the Goomba did my door end up like that?! I just painted it!_

Peach slowly stood up, shaking her head. Her face darkened into a reddish color, steam whistling out of her ears.

_Ergh! When I find out who destroyed my door, I'll rip their intestines out and floss my teeth with them! My Mario worked so hard on that._

Egad! Mario!

As simple as flipping an on/off switch, Peach gracefully danced in the hallway, her previous intentions of death and murder nonexistent.

_Oh, Mario! Mario-poo! My special, perfect cake! All for my Mario! OOOOO!_

Peach hurtled over the splintered door, looking for the clock by her bed.

_2:40? That's it?!_

Peach crossed her arms over her chest and "hmph"ed. She stuck her tongue out in disgust.

"I have to wait that long? Poo." She scanned over her dirty and stinky clothes. "Yuck! Poopy! I need a shower. Actually, I'll need all the time to pamper myself. I have to stun Mario with my extravagant beauty. Then, he'll love me more than ever!"

She squeezed her hands together and pressed them to her chest, batting her eyelashes to no one in particular.

"Why am I so amazing?"

She twirled out her door and skipped down the hall like a little girl happily enjoying a lollipop. As she neared the bathroom, she noticed that the Mansion seemed to be empty. On Sundays the Mansion was crammed with Smashers, as there were no fights scheduled and the plazas don't open until six.

Befuddled, she called out, "Marth? ROB? Zelda? Samus? Fox? Anyone?"

No response.

"Huh. They must be outside."

Satisfied with her theory, she stopped at the door and reached for the handle…But then she stopped.

Because of her little nap, she didn't have time to check her cake! What if it dried or became moldy? Oh, her disastrous cake would ruin Mario's love for her…She just couldn't let that happen.

Yes. She decided to go make sure her cake was still perfect. Her shower could wait; this was much more important.

And with that, Peach turned from the door and skipped down the hall, humming a sweet, lovable tune. Aww…

Only minutes later from this cute, precious scene, would the Mansion seethe as a tomb for the dead.


	13. Doors Are to be Opened

**When I wrote this a year ago, I originally had this as ROB. But then I read the horrible new from Pikana. I don't know anyone very well on this site, but niceness took over me, and I worked all night to change this chapter and the next. So it may seem a little rudgy, but oh well. I lead a busy life; so shoot me, haha.**

**So, this is for Pikana.**

_It was the guy in the trench coat. He's the one that killed his master._

_The subway bustled with people and pokemon. People were on their way to work, yakking on their cell phones, pushing people out their way, bickering at others. The pokemon shadowed their masters, never leaving their side, tripping people by accident in their effort to keep up with them. The subway station was so crowded it was impossible to squeeze a needle in. And with the subway cars, the people quacking, and the pokemon singing their names, if a bomb had exploded in the subway, the noise would drain it out, barely making a PING*_

_His master carried him in his arms. Most times his master was content, baring a smile that rivaled the sun in brightness. But today, the close proximity of the people irked him. He shouted "Hey" and "Watch out" and "Stupid Clefairy", elbowing people out of the way. Though, they were so warped up in their own world that none of them seemed bothered with a few bruises to the ribs and arms._

_It had been five years. Five years since his master had adopted him. They had traveled the world, meeting and befriending people and pokemon, saving towns from countless disasters, and, oh yea, embarrassing the hell out of the bad guys. Their journeys could have been best-selling books and movies – it was just too unbelievable to…well, believe._

_During their travels, he developed a bond with his master. No jackhammer or sledgehammer could shatter the love for his master. Sure, most the people he and his master had mingled with were courteous, all ways thinking about others before themselves. But his master wasn't like other people. Sometimes he wondered if his master was even human._

_His eyes. The twinkling in his eyes. Love, warmth, happiness; no other sets of eyes wielded power like that. Every time he gazed into his eyes, his heart would melt. All troubles, irritations, depressions; they ran away, hiding under big, fat boulders. It was like watching a television – in those eyes he saw himself, his master laughing and repeatedly throwing him in the air, then catching him. He was giggling too, and crawled up his master's arm, clasping his tiny arms onto his chest, his master engulfing him in a hug…_

_Yes. There was no other person in the world better. No one could possibly take his place. He was going to live with his master. Forever._

_Until the man in the trench coat changed that._

_It has been one whole year since they had traversed the nooks and crannies of the world. His master stopped to go to college, where he took him with. He had to say, it wasn't nearly as fun being locked in a dorm room as much as it was travelling the world, but he did not want to anger his master. Besides, his master had kind of…hrm*…broken a few rules, to sneak him onto the campus. Get the hint?_

_The reason they were in the subway was because today's his mother's birthday. His master thought it best to surprise his mother by stopping in for a quick visit. He just wouldn't be a son if he didn't spend time with his mother on her birthday (at least that's what his master told him)._

_So, they trekked through the jungles of people and pokemon, finally reaching the platform to get on and off the subway. His master cursed under his breath and whipped his head around, giving a few people and pokemon death stares._

_Still cozy in his master's arm, he had trouble differentiating the many sounds and sights. Everything blurred, like a child smearing his watercolors all over the walls; none of it made sense._

_But he did notice the man in the trench coat. He sidled up next to his master, hands buried deep into his pockets. A full-brimmed hat that matched his coat sealed his eyes in shadow. He shouldered next to his master, watching his shoes._

_Something told him that he wasn't here just for the subway. He stuck out sorely, like a kid finding Waldo in a field crammed with Smurfs. Death seemed to perspire from his pores, leaving a scent that drenched him in uneasiness and worry. He shifted as far from the stranger as his master's arms would let him._

_His master looked down at him and spoke his name, asking what was troubling him. When his master saw him look at the stranger, he too, expressed uneasiness._

_The stranger continued to look at the ground, but he tilted his head closer to his master, and spoke in an icy whisper, "We haven't forgotten."_

_He and his master exchanged puzzled looks. But another voice, this one female, interrupted their thoughts from his master's other side. _

"_Don't think you could slip away that easily."_

_Her voice just as icy, she too, was in a matching trench coat and hat. He didn't know if his master noticed, but a few long strands of red head snaked out from under the hat. And like the man, she looked at the ground, a stench of death saturating her._

_Then they sidled up next to his master, pinning him between them. His master had no room to even retaliate because of the hustle and bustle in the subway._

_He watched his master express fear, something he had rarely seen his master do. His voice sounded even worse, cracking and too-squeaky._

"_Hey. Who the hell do you think you are? Leave me alone!"_

_Of course, no one heard his cries. They might as well have been at a rock concert.  
_

_The man started to whisper as the woman sidled behind his master._

"_You killed him. Our only friend. And you can join him. So, when you see him, tell him one thing."_

_The woman stood behind his master. She wrapped her arms around his waist, catching his master by surprise. The more his master tried to fight back, the harder she hugged him._

_Then the man pulled a pistol from out his pocket and shoved it into his master's temple. His master crapped out, the fight out of him drained. He looked down at him, he in his master's arms. The twinkle was all but gone. _

"_Tell Meowth, Team Rocket sent you."_

_PLIP*_

_Still in his master's arms, the woman shoved them off the platform onto the subway tracks. He rolled out of his master's arms, plunking into the wall. But that didn't faze him, no. His master. He had to check his master._

_He ran over to his master, lying face down on the ground, blank eyes staring into his. This time, he saw no one laughing and throwing him in the air. Nothing._

_He screamed out his name (pokemon name), shoving his master to wake him up. He just had to wake up. C'mon, wake up! Please…_

_He screamed for his name for help, but no one could hear him. They paid no attention. And those two in the trench coats vanished. Leaving him alone, with his master, in a dark, dusty, empty world._

_C'mon master, please…wake up…_

_*****_

_The tomato looks yummy._

_Oh wait, it's rotten. Bleh!_

_Um…maybe the peanut butter?_

_No, that always gets stuck in the mouth._

_Hm. Well….Ah-ha! There! Turkey meat! Score!_

Pikachu hopped up to the bottom shelf, nipping the plastic bag. After tossing it on the ground, he shoved the refrigerator door with his head. He picked the bag up in his mouth walked on all fours to the counter. Using the barstool as a step, he hopped onto the counter and opened the bag. He sat down, legs splayed out, and placed the bag between them. Then with his stubby arms, he swiped a piece of turkey and nibbled on it.

He really shouldn't be eating, but he was starving. But then he'd ruin his appetite for the picnic. Oh goodness, so much stress for a little pokemon to handle.

He was in the personal kitchen, waiting for the time to pass until picnic time. Earlier, he heard screams from the other Smashers outside the kitchen walls. Maybe they were playing tag? But Master Hand wouldn't allow them to play indoors.

There was no time to play. He had a picnic!

While he nibbled on another piece of turkey, Pikachu's ears shot up. Voices. Coming from behind the door. Drawing closer.

"I told you I suck at making food."

"Hey, it happens. You're just not used to that kind of stuff."

"But I stabbed you in the hand while making sandwiches!"

"Wouldn't be the first time. Remember the time you came after me with that rake?"

Pikachu listened to their laughter, his butt wiggling with excitement.

_Those voices. They could only be…_

Pikachu clumsily jumped off the counter and scurried to the door. It barely opened halfway as Pikachu leaped into the air, sticking onto Luigi's chest. They toppled over, and Pikachu snuggled into the warmth of the plumber. Luigi, shocked at first, smiled and scratched behind Pikachu's ear.

Samus watched with arms crossed over her chest. She smirked down at them.

"A little excited, don't you think.?"

Luigi picked Pikachu up in both hands and saddled himself back on his two feet.

"Yea. And he smells like turkey." He looked at Pikachu, "You better have room for our picnic. "

He sounded stern, but those eyes continued to smile.

"Pika!"

Luigi shrugged. "Neh, good enough for me." Cradling Pikachu in one arm, he stooped down to nab up the picnic basket. "Well, it's almost three. What say we head on out?"

Luigi and Samus entered the small kitchen, heading toward the door at the other end which led to the blue skies and green grass.

Pikachu had other ideas. He squirmed out of Luigi's arm and fumbled out onto the floor. He turned around, head and forelegs lowered. His butt and tail stuck out in the air, wiggling madly.

Samus watched Luigi place the container on the counter and stoop down, like how a basketball player would position himself for defense. His eyes never left Pikachu. She couldn't tell if he was smiling or not, but he looked agitated, fidgeting on his feet. Pikachu continued to wiggle his butt.

Samus asked him, "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Oh. He wants to play a little game. You want to join?"

Samus didn't have a chance to reply, because Luigi lunged into a dive right at Pikachu. The pokemon squirreled out to the right, weaving through a barstool. Luigi tried to intercept him on the other side, but he zipped around, back the way he came.

Unfortunately, Samus blocked his escape route. She was crouched down, ready to nab him. He saw Samus reach for him, but Pikachu was quicker. He ran to the counter and she followed his move, but at the last second, he wall-jumped off the counter, right over Samus's hands. Though her training didn't leave her without quick reflexes; she tried to grab Pikachu behind her. But she shifted her weight too much and fell on her face.

Luigi was coming from the left, and Pikachu cranked to the right, scampering to the door that led to the outside.

Now, there are many doors in the Smash Mansion. And the Smashers that live here come in all sizes. But small ones, like Squirtle, Kirby, and Pikachu, can't exactly reach the doorknob as easily as the taller Smashers. To accommodate, Master Hand built holes near the bottom of the door, acting similar to a dog door. So, the smaller Smashers could then enter and leave rooms without difficulty.

Too bad Luigi and Samus forgot.

Pikachu darted out the dog door. Luigi, not paying attention to his surroundings, was flabbergasted when Pikachu went outside. Before he could even register what had happened, he smashed into the door, too dazed to move.

Samus, running right behind Luigi, also saw Pikachu dart outside. But she had enough time to try and stop herself. Unfortunately, the floor proved to be too slippery, and her momentum carried her forward. She pancaked right into Luigi, sandwiching him.

To add to the humiliation, Samus's bust had collided into the back of Luigi's head, and the force bashed his head through the door window, shattering the glass into tiny fragments.

All of this happened in two seconds.

Samus and Luigi pancaked there for a few seconds, like in Wile E. Coyote cartoon, and then slumped down to the ground.

They staggered to their feet, looking at everything but each other. Samus shyly rubbed her forearm while Luigi rubbed the back of his neck. Neither of them dared to speak. The room suddenly felt too hot, very uncomfortable.

Finally, Luigi moused out, "let's never speak of this. This never happened."

Samus matched back Luigi's voice, "Agreed."

Luigi hurried over to the picnic basket and snatched it up, not taking a moment's breath. Samus watched the ground as Luigi's feet hurried by and opened the door. She followed suit, and closed the door behind her.


	14. Electric Pokemon Meets Plumber

_The cupboard was a safe place. It was a good place to cry._

_Ever since his master's death, Pikachu lost the will to live. What's the point, when the only thing you ever loved was taken from you? _

_After Ash's body was discovered in the subway, authorities were clueless on what to do with Pikachu. He was too tamed to be released back into the wild, but none of Ash's relatives or friends wanted him._

_Solution: homeless shelter. Especially designed for pokemon._

_Pikachu stayed in the homeless shelter for nearly a year, his thoughts slowly decaying away with time. Sure, the people working at the center were very courteous and helpful, but they were only doing their jobs; they resisted involving themselves to deeply with the pokemon. Doesn't matter. He wanted nothing from no one._

_Day in and day out, Pikachu lolled with the flow. He never listened – the irritated workers ended up carrying him everywhere. He rarely ate, missed sleep, wouldn't socialize with the other pokemon,. Even his electricity sizzled out. _

_Pikachu rotted in the corner of his room, eyes never moving nor blinking; just staring into the darkness, his mind shut off from the world around him. Lifeless. That was the best way to describe him._

_Then the invitation from Super Smash Bros. came, asking for a few pokemon to join. Thinking that it may spark some life back into Pikachu, the homeless shelter shipped him off, expecting him to return revved up enough to light a whole city._

_Eh, they might have been over their heads a little._

_The other Smashers ridiculed him, made fun of him because he, an electric type pokemon, could barely charge a light bulb. The younger Smashers never asked him to play, ignoring him completely. Not even the other pokemon wanted anything to do with him. Too thin, too timid, too boring – why doesn't he just kill himself all ready?_

_So, in between matches, Pikachu dragged himself to the cupboard in the small kitchen and befriended the darkness. It never insulted him nor laughed at him, or touched him inappropriately. No, the darkness stayed with him, never leaving his side. He could rely on it, to shadow himself from the world. A world tied around his neck, ready to choke him when least expected it. No one out there would ever love him like his master did._

_But one man would loosen the noose from Pikachu's neck and nurse him back into the light. Saving him from the fate the other man had in store for him…_

_While Pikachu wept his soul out in the cupboard, a loud noise startled him. He jumped a little, bumping his head on the shelf above._

_Smashers rarely inhabit the small kitchen, preferring to socialize with the other Smashers in the larger one. And when they do make a stop, they don't linger. Pikachu listens to the harmony of cups and dishes ding together, the refrigerator open and hum its tune, and then it's over, the Smasher(s) never sticking around for more than five minutes. It was a perfect place for Pikachu to hide._

_But that would change…_

_Behind the closed cupboard, someone had shoved the door open and let it THUNK* against the wall. A thin, squeaky voice roared out, and what sounded like a chair being moved was thrown against the cabinets, only a few feet from where Pikachu was hiding. The containers and silverware quaked beside him._

"_Who do they think they are?!"_

_Another chair scraped across the floor, another tribal scream from the man, but he must have thrown it in the opposite direction, bouncing around on the counter somewhere. Phew._

"_Assign me –CRASH* as an assist trophy – WAM* – while that fat oaf – SHATTER* – gets to fight?!!!"_

_The chaos began to pick up pace, the destruction increasing in magnitude. Whatever lit his fuse, he was blowing up the kitchen, and sooner or later he would find him and,…what would he do to him?_

_Pikachu trembled into a ball, hiding his face. Unfortunately, his shaky tail tapped a glass cup over. The cup rolled away, right at the cupboard door. It didn't stop; rather, the cup forced the door ajar, lazily rolling onto the counter below. The shatter of the glass echoed inside Pikachu's empty heart._

_Immediately, the man desisted in his tyrannical rage. Silence pierced the kitchen. Pikachu couldn't see the man, but he was sure that his eyes were fixated through the cupboard, ready to rip the poor pokemon's body into pieces._

_Pikachu slinked against the wall as the man's footsteps pounded across the room, right in front of the cupboard. A hand reached inside, gripped the door, and slapped it opened._

_The man must have been tall, because Pikachu's cupboard was a level above the refrigerator. His pointy head greeted him, huge pinkish-purple nose and all. The mustache wormed above his lip, growing outward and upward, the tips like pencil points. He wore a purple hat, an upside-down 'L' prompted right on the front. His eyes growled with hunger, his pupils boiling like an oily tar._

_Pikachu rolled up into a ball again, hiding his face. That face could have packed the devil running with his tail between his legs._

_The man spoke, sending needles down Pikachu's spine. _

"_Gr. Who dare disturb the Great Waluigi?!"_

_A gloved hand shot into the cupboard and grabbed Pikachu by the head. He squeaked in agony as Waluigi dangled Pikachu in front of him. Anger still thundered in those eyes, but now a sneer flashed across his face. Pikachu patched his eyes with his stubby arms._

_When the man spoke again, Pikachu could smell motor oil on his breath._

"_Why, you're nothing but a teeny mouse! You dare breath in the same air that the Great Waluigi breathes? You are not allowed to breathe my oxygen! It's mine!"_

_He lowered Pikachu to his side, still grabbing him by the head, and started to walk to the counter. He ranted on, though Pikachu wasn't sure if it was directed to him or not._

"_Why does everyone bow down and worship that fat, stupid man?! I, the Great Waluigi, should getting massages; being fed grapes; having leaves fan me. Not him!"_

_Waluigi stopped in front of the counter as Pikachu continued to squeak in pain. The pokemon wandered if Waluigi was insane, his mind vacationed into some other world._

"_But, now they think they can take advantage of me. After all I have done for them! I created this world with my bare hands – I am the Great Waluigi! They smut around, kicking dust in my face, while that yellow-capped freak gets his stomach rubbed!! What did he do?! I created them!!! I CREATED ALL OF LIFE!!!!"_

_Pikachu felt the hand on his head tighten, the muscles quivering._

"_And now they fight against me! With this," he slopped Pikachu on the counter, but he did not let go of his grip, "They sent a little turd to spy on me. ME! THE GREAT WALUIGI!!!"_

_The rail-thin, creaky man squatted up and down. His face reeked of revenge, a small glint of insanity dwelling within those eyes. _

"_I know! I shall build an army! And attack! And steal back all the air that is mine! Mine! And the sun! And gravity! And Vin Deisel! Because I am the Great – "_

"_Hey big boy…whaddaya yelling about?"_

_Waluigi and Pikachu turned to the doorway. _

_A blonde woman, skimped in a bikini, leaned against the doorframe. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and a sly smile formed in the corner of her mouth. _

"_I said, what are you doing, big guy?" _

_Pikachu couldn't tell if she was trying to be sexy or not; her voice sounded too deep and a little gruffy. She needed a little work on that girly voice of hers. And she swayed her hips clumsily as she walked to Waluigi. Wait…Waluigi?! What did anyone see in a lunatic like that? _

_Whatever the reason, he was thankful for another presence, because Waluigi released his grip on his head. Pikachu caressed his throbbing head._

_Waluigi straightened his posture, took his hat off, and attempted to comb his disheveled hair with his hand. Pikachu was close to losing his mind – the fearsome, egotistical monster suddenly lost all interest in Pikachu, the anger and rage flushed away._

_Waluigi's legs started to shake as the woman neared him. He replied back to her, trying to sound macho, but only came out as a puny pre-pubescent teenager._

"_I…Uh, I was…just…showing the guy…who was…boss around here." He pounded a fist against his thin chest, like someone tapping on glass. _

"_Oh baby. That just…cough*…turns me on."_

_Pikachu, too shocked (not literally) to run away, sat on his haunches, watching the impossible. This woman wasn't trying very hard to act sexy. Actually, she looked more like she wanted to kill the Waluigi didn't notice. Pikachu guessed that a woman hadn't talked him for most of his life._

_A shadow lurked at the other doorway. It was hunched over, carrying something. Then it darted from the doorway and sidled insanely fast along the wall until it ducked down behind the counter. _

_Waluigi or the woman hadn't noticed, but Pikachu did. He watched the figure move gracefully toward him and duck behind the counter. He looked down behind the counter – and he thought he saw his master again._

_The twinkling in his eyes; the warmth, the love, the happiness bubbling in those eyes. He could feel his veins jolt up, willpower and electricity flowing through them. The man's smile radiated brighter than the sun itself…Pikachu had found the light, and it was going to rescue him from the darkness._

_The man gestured a finger to his mouth and pointed to Waluigi. Pikachu nodded, and Luigi beckoned him to hop into his arms._

_Pikachu didn't hesitate. He feathered into the man's arms, letting warmth vibrate into his frail body._

_But the man immediately placed him down and grabbed an object from behind him. Pikachu couldn't believe what he was seeing._

_The man held a lit bob-omb in his hands. Only it was painted yellow. With black eyes. And red cheeks. And a lightning bolt-like tail attached to the back. It horribly resembled Pikachu. _

_Meanwhile, the conversation continued between Waluigi and the blonde woman._

"_So, you say you're the greatest in the world. Um, please, tell me…more…"_

"_Well, I was born in the heavens, and bestowed great powers so I, the Great Waluigi –"_

_The man placed the bomb on the counter, trying to replicate the exact position Pikachu was in. When he was satisfied, he grabbed Pikachu and snuck back to the doorway. He sidled up against the wall, and peered behind it, watching Waluigi and the woman._

"_OK then. I'll see you tonight then…naked…"_

_She thrusted a womanly hip into his. Waluigi sailed across the room, crashing face-first into the wall. _

_Pikachu watched as the woman attempted to walk sexily over to their hiding spot. She tripped over herself, but regained balance. When she reached the doorway, she blew back a kiss then hopped to the opposite of the doorway. She was also peering into the room, but with a disgusted look._

_Waluigi jumped from off the ground, landing right onto his feet. He danced around, hugging himself, croaking out noises that Pikachu supposed was singing, and then grabbed the Pikachu bomb. He was too wrapped up in his own fantasy to obviously see it wasn't Pikachu. Then he did something that made Pikachu laugh for the first time in five years._

_He kissed the bomb, emphasizing the splotchy noises. But a second into the kiss, the bomb blew up in his face. _

_After the smoke cleared away, Waluigi's face looked like something from out of Looney Tunes. His face was ashen-black, the hair off his head completely blown off. Pikachu couldn't even see his mustache anymore – it also must have blown off. _

_After giving a faint cough, he keeled over._

_Five seconds passed. Ten seconds passed. No one moved._

_Then the woman suddenly fisted up balls of her hair and yanked it. _

"_Oh gosh! I can't believe I did that! I don't even wear this! How did you talk me into this, Luigi?!"_

_As she was gibbering on, she ran over to a pile of metal. She lifted it up, which looked like a robotic suit, and proceeded to put it on._

_The man chuckled and responded, "Heh. Samus, you could use a little work on that sexy walk of yours. I think even Bowser can do better than that."_

_Samus, now in her power suit, cocked her arm cannon at him. But the man only smiled. Then he looked down at Pikachu._

"_Hey there fella, close call. Hope he didn't hurt you. Name's Luigi."_

_For the first time in his life since his master was killed, Pikachu said his name._

"_Pikachu!"_

_A spark crinkled in his cheeks._

_No longer would he rely on shadows to hide him from the world. No longer would he mope around. No longer would cry in his sleep, wishing for his master to come back._

_Here he rested in the arms of a man; a man who possessed the nature of his former master, who sparked life back into his heart. The noose had loosened from his neck, left behind in the forgotten darkness. He wanted to live again._

**Who are the last two Smashers? How will Peach react to her eaten cake? What fate awaits Kirby and the rest of the Smashers? Is Wario dead? Where did Mario go, and what's this 'present'? Will Waluigi return? Will Luigi uncover his destiny?**

**Stay tuned to find out, and review if you likey so far.**


	15. It Begins

Deserted. Abnormal for a Sunday afternoon. The Smashers usually swarmed the Mansion on Sundays, with no scheduled matches and no plaza opened until the evening. They occupied their time by annoying the hell out of each other.

Especially Wolf.

Not today, they didn't. Because some stupid pink blob ate a cake, everyone panicked and hid themselves deep in the shadows. Just to avoid the wrath of one pink, cutesy, girlish, idiotic princess.

The fearless bounty hunter strolled out to the foyer from one of the hallways, whipping his laser gun around in his fingers.

Princess Peach. The ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom. A woman so incapable of learning that she walks into the same spot in the wall, three consecutive time. A woman so stereotypically girly that every time she walks into a dark room, she runs to take a shower because the darkness "touched her". A woman so "blonde" that she sometimes forgets to dress herself and strides around the Mansion naked (though Wolf doesn't complain too much about that one). This is the person that provokes fear into the Smashers, that could bring forth the end of the world? Even Link, considered by many to be the bravest, had a wet spot on his tunic.

Well, not Wolf. He doesn't scare that easily.

He stopped in the middle of the vast room and closed his eyes, allowing the silence to kiss him on the cheek. Mmm…feels like sitting in a hot-tub.

Oh, don't get him wrong. He loved the quietness; he wished he would never have to see any of their stupid faces again outside of Smash matches. But he felt embarrassed living with people who were afraid of a princess that had the personality of a sugar cookie.

He holstered his gun and crossed his arms over his chest. He straightened his posture, looked around the room, and turned away in disgust, a slight "hmph" sneaking out of his lips.

He was known as one of the greatest bounty hunters in the Lylat System. People dropped their eyes to the ground when he walked by. His name alone sparked fear and quiet respect. He's fought and killed multiple creatures, some more powerful than Andross. A _princess_ would not send him running with his tail between his legs. Why, he'll slap her across the face and send her crying to her room if he had too.

"Geez. She's just an innocent princess with mush for brains. What could she _possibly_ do?"

A banshee-like wail erupted from somewhere in the Mansion, stinging pain in Wolf's ears.

He zipped his laser gun out and threw his gaze wildly around the room. He was alone.

From which direction did that scream come from? It almost sounded like it was right behind him, whatever it was.

Wolf frowned. 'Whatever it was' summed it up perfectly. The scream sounded distressed, like a mother had realized her child had been murdered. Though, it didn't sound very human. Maybe one of the Smashers hurt themselves trying to hide. Or maybe…no, could it have been the Princess?

The Mansion began to rumble underneath Wolf. Pictures hanging on the wall snapped to the floor. The chandelier above him flickered and swayed, threatening to fall down on him.

What followed was the most sickening, blood-curling, angriest roar Wolf had ever heard. The empty hallways suddenly appeared to have come to life, snarling threats from every direction. The house seemed somewhat smaller, pitting his body into an uncomfortable position. The 'fearless bounty hunter' in Wolf jumped out and ran into the closet, trembling within the piles of clothes.

A pair of red eyes, like the brake lights of a car, burned in the dark hallway directly in front of Wolf.

He tucked his tail between his legs and slunk his ears behind his head.

Uh…didn't he have something important to do in his room right now?

*****

Oh no.

_She knows._

Link, Zelda, and Sonic scrambled for the bathroom window, every man, woman, and hedgehog for himself.

Sonic reached their first and tried to jump out, but his large head and spines prevented him. Link punched him off and made his own attempt to escape; alas his shoulders were too wide. Zelda kicked him out of the way and tried herself, all most making it, but her hips were too wide.

Though escape was futile, they nevertheless kept trying, stomping and biting each other in the process. They might as well have been running around with their heads cut off; a laugh track would have fit the whole fiasco perfectly.

Outside the bathroom door, they heard a whimper, then a bark, then a glass-shattering scream. A large object thumped against the door and fell to the ground.

Sonic, Link, and Zelda froze. They didn't dare to breathe.

Silence.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds.

Silence.

Link gestured to Sonic and Zelda to stay and tip-toed over to the door, wincing when a floorboard cricked from under him.

As slow and as stealthy as he could, Link pressed an ear against the door.

Nothing opened the door, grabbed him, stuffed him into a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

Only silence lingered behind the door.

Link turned to the other two, shrugging.

Before anyone could _blink_, a giant pink tentacle blasted a hole through the door and coiled around a surprised Link's head. It tore him through the door, leaving a man-sized hole behind. The poor elf didn't even get the chance to scream.

Instinctively, Zelda grabbed Sonic and pushed him to the door and ran for the window, not looking back to see what happened to the hedgehog. She squirmed through the window, scraping her hips painfully against the frame. All most out…Errrggh…

A tentacle wrapped around her ankle, causing Zelda to gasp in her throat. Then it yanked her out of the window, the frame still stuck around her hips. A moment's scream, then silence once more.

*****

Snake and Jigglypuff hugged each other, trembling uncontrollably. Both sought refuge under one of Snake's trademark boxes. The mercenary gripped a loaded pistol in one hand, but he might as well have been a small boy holding a toy; his training and pride had completely drained him. The round pokemon quivered in the soldier's arm, resembling a balloon about to pop.

Something Godzilla-sized thumped outside the box. Seconds passed. Then another thump. And another. Closer and closer, until it stopped right next to them. A frothy, growling sound hovered above them.

Snake wished he would have pursued his dream of becoming a model.

Jigglypuff wished she would have pursued her dream of becoming a hand model.

The box lifted up, revealing them to the dark light. A giant lobster claw greeted them, opening and closing in glee.

*****

Bowser stood motionless in the hallway, a lamp shade over his head. He was too big to fit in most places, and all the other Smashers wouldn't allow him to hide with them.

So, this is the best he could come up with. Pretending to be a tall, fat, spiky-shelled lamp. Yeah, that's really going to confuse someone. Way to go, Bowser.

Something slimy slithered over to him. He tried his hardest to maintain his posture, but he couldn't stop shaking, knowing that his life was going to end in mere seconds from now.

The slithering stopped in front of him. It tilted up the lamp shade.

Bowser did the only thing he could think of. He waved.

*****

Marth, Meta Knight, and Lucario stood with their backs against each other, able to observe the room from all angles. Swords drawn, aura blazing; they weren't going down without a fight.

Unfortunately, though well defended, the grate concealed in the back never crossed their minds.

A pink, oozy substance seeped from the grating and flowed over to the trio…

*****

Diddy Kong and Donkey Kong sprinted through the hallway, the tyrannical roar beating on their shoulders. They turned the corner – into a dead-end.

They turned around, a shaky arm covering their eyes. They held out a banana in front of them, positioned like a gun.

Though, not even a loaded banana could save them this time…

*****

One by one, the Smashers fell. No matter where they ran, where they hid, what they defended themselves with – it found them.

Only one Smasher remained, too small to be noticed sleeping on its bed, pillows and blankets sweetly protecting it. As the little creature slept, It waited within the darkness, red eyes glaring, patiently waiting for the rest of the Smashers to return…


	16. When I Want Peanuts, I Want Them Now!

**Yea. It's over 20,000 words. Sorry, I can't count.**

"Hey! I want a peanut!"

"Crazy, would you be quiet! People are looking…"

"What?! How dare you interrupt me when I'm pretending to look busy!"

"Stop it! And put that man down, he's not a peanut!"

Mario tip-toed backwards, whistling, acting his best to not look associated with the two giant gloved hands. Master Hand continuously poked at Crazy until he dropped the man, which Crazy returned his middle finger as a thank you. He ran away on his middle and pointer fingers, crying like a little boy with a tantrum. Master swayed his hand around, which Mario guessed that if he was human, would have been a shameful nod and sigh. He floated after the running hand, swinging his finger around like a sword.

_Goodness…that Crazy can be a handful…ah, hey, I made a funny!_

Mario, too deep in his thoughts, backed right into someone sitting on a bench.

"Hey, it's a good thing I like you, or else I'd smack you alongside the head with my cane."

Smiling, the plumber sat down next to his father, twiddling his thumbs.

He, the doctor, and the two hands were at the train station. People of all races, from all the different gaming worlds, wandered the platforms. They talked, they argued, they laughed, they cried; a regular hustle and bustle. A Waddle Dee raised his voice above the others, a bag over his, um, shoulder(?), yelling out for people to get your newspaper, get your newspaper. A Goron sat next him, bellowing out to get your bombs, get your bombs, give your mother a blasting good time with a bomb for Mother's Day. Next to the Goron hopped a purple Yoshi. It held roadkill above its head, honking out to yoshi yo-yosh, yoshi yo-yoshi, shi yo-yo-shi yoshi yoshi yi.

This was the main hub for the universes. The Smash Mansion and its surrounding plazas and businesses attracted creatures from everywhere, and no other place existed like it. Call it the cross between dimensions, if you want. It's the only place where you could see a Koopa talk with Chozo, a Kremling drink beer with a Polar Bear, or Knuckles the Echidna making out with a cross-dressing Birdo. Bored and wanted to meet new people? This area, especially the train station, was the place to go. It reeked of peace, of friendship, of calmness…

Well, except for Crazy Hand cornering a crying Pichu, thrashing his fingers and accusing it of stealing his peanuts that he bought twenty years ago.

Other than that, peaceful. Good word.

Mario took his gaze away from Crazy and the train station and threw it over to his father. The doctor looked back at him, a weary smile etched across his face.

Age had not taken a liking to the doc. Since the three of them had returned to the Mushroom Kingdom, Dr. Mario had hermited himself up in his room, pouring over his notes, forgetting some times to eat or sleep. Years of stress reflected in the dark circles and graying hair. He even suffered arthritis in his right leg, and had to support his weight on a cane. Mario didn't know why, but his father was too stubborn to take his own medicine, which would have his leg gearing back into operation; he kept saying that the medicine was created for the people, not him. He'd only take someone else's.

When the Super Smash Bros. invited Mario and Luigi, Dr. Mario took a hiatus from his work and travelled with them, just to say he's been to the Smash Mansion. But, when Master Hand learned that he was the father of the famous Mario, the same doctor who concocted cures for nearly every disease and injury, he invited him to stay as doctor. And while he watched over the health of the Smashers, Master Hand promised to provide funding for the doc's research. Though a jackass, Master all ways kept his word. And as a result, Dr. Mario was positive that he the answer to curing the common cold lingered right under his nose – it was just very, very faint.

It's been only a month into the tournaments, but all ready Dr. Mario had achieved major status. The Smashers loved him, especially the younger ones, who clambered around him, tugging at his coat to tell them stories about his journeys. Even Wolf and Ganondorf, the social misfits who hated everything about the world, listened to the doc's words of wisdom. _Even Wario_, the most cynical human being ever to breathe, never farted in the doctor's presence. And Master Hand and Crazy Hand liked him so much, they appointed him as second-in-command. Meaning, that whatever decisions the Hands mangled over, the doctor was allowed to add a few suggestions to the mix.

Thanks to the doctor, the harshness around the Smash Mansion decreased, and the attractions to the major tournaments increased in sales by a hundred percent. The doctor was all acknowledgedas the greatest man in the Mushroom Kingdom, but by the way things were going, he may one day be the greatest man in _all_ the universes.

Mario couldn't be more proud of his father.

The doctor nodded over to the ruckus Crazy Hand was causing.

"That Hand is going to be the death of the Super Smash Bros. Or worse, he'll be thrown in the asylum. Hm…or, maybe it's for the better?"

"Huh, yea."

"C'mon Mario, what's the matter? You can't hide it from me. You've been fidgety all day, twiddling your thumbs and stroking your mustache. You didn't come along just to see me wobble off."

Man, his dad was good.

The doc put a gloved hand on his son's shoulder, rocking him a bit.

"C'mon…why did you really come?"

"Um…waiting for someone to come. On a train."

The doctor leaned in closer, whispering, "For who? I thought you and the Princess were an item."

Mario looked at his father from the corner of his eyes. "No, no, nothing like that. It's just a friend from high school."

Dr. Mario leaned back into the bench, a hand prickling his chin. "High school, high school…" His eyes shot open and he clapped his hands. "Wait a second. If I'm right, than this wouldn't happen to be for…"

Before the doctor could finish, Mario smiled and nodded. The doctor clasped another hand onto the red plumber's shoulder.

"You're a good man, Mario. Yes, it's a gutsy move, but in the end, it'll be for the best."

They sat in silence, watching the people passing by. Crazy Hand had somehow sneaked into of the train cars, a giant finger poking out of the window, pointing at people and disturbing them with bizarre food recipes. A gaggle of Toads working for the train station stormed into the train after him, prompting Crazy to make a hasty retreat.

Mario broke the silence, "You can't possibly be looking forward to travelling with that guy. I'd go…well, crazy, listening to him ramble on about peanuts and Vin Diesel. "

The doctor rolled his eyes, along with his head, "No, I'm not. But you'll never know what kind of loonies we'll have to interview."

On Sundays, people from every which universe send in applications to be a Smasher. The Hands and the doctor take a train with the wanna-bes to a specialized training grounds, where they drill them with physical and mental challenges. Do well, you become a Smasher. Do bad, you don't become a Smasher. So far, no one has ever passed. It's not because the challenges are tough – the people are just really, really terrible.

When the three come back at night, Master Hand and Crazy Hand ignore the excitement and questions from the Smashers, but the doctor is happy to tell about who tried out and what embarrassing things occurred.

Mario laughed. "Yea, I can only imagine."

"No you can't. Trust me. I've met one of them here, and he won't seem to leave me alone."

As if on cue, a man from the crowd waved over to them. Dr. Mario pretended not to see him, looking up in the sky. The man trudged through the crowd to them anyway, knocking creatures and people to the ground, ignoring the rants and threats bouldering him.

Mario struggled to hold a laugh in. The man looked like he came out of some horribly animated television show. He was cloaked in an orange gown, with a yellow shoal coating his shoulders. A thin crown snuggled around his head, a little gold triangle on the front. And the man was extremely hairy; long hair, big mustache, and a fat, circular beard.

The man reached their bench and sat uncomfortably close to his father. He wrapped an arm around him and stammered out, "Mah boi!" With his other free hand, he gestured to the crowd. "This peace is what all true warriors strive for."

Dr. Mario sighed toward Mario, "Mario, meet The King. The King, this is my son, Mario."

The King held a finger up next to his face, looking ready to scold them. But he only beamed, his beard swimming around his face. Man, hadn't The King ever heard of a barber?

Master Hand interrupted them, making all three of them jump.

"Well, our train is about to leave. I have Crazy chained to one of the seats, so he shouldn't be able to destroy as much of the train as usual." He took notice to The King, who now was drinking from a giant goblet. "Ah, you must be one of the people trying out. I am – "

The King cut him off. "Enough! My ship sails in the morning. I wonder what's for dinner?"

His gestures made absolutely no sense. Talking about his ship, he counted his fingers while looking in the air, as if he was trying to mentally solve a math problem. Then, while talking about dinner, he made a horizontal chopping motion.

And with that, The King stood up and left to board the train.

More to himself, Master Hand, "Yes…" he focused his attention back on the two Marios. "Well, should we get this over with, Doctor? Oh, I appreciate you coming along Mario. Remember, you are in charge." He floated closer to Mario, his voice creaking with a bit of anger, "If anything happens, the craps on you." He floated away to the train.

When Master Hand boarded the train, Dr. Mario rolled his eyes to his son. Mario laughed along.

"Just ignore him. Yea, he's a jerk at times. But he's got to maintain order in the Mansion." He hobbled onto his legs, leaning on his cane. "I trust you to watch over the Mansion, and your guest."

He winked at him and turned to board the train.

Minutes later, the train steamed away, blaring its whistle over the noise of the crowd. Mario watched it go until it disappeared over the horizon.

He looked down at his watch while stroking his moustache. All most time.

Kicking his legs and patting his knees, he interested himself in the crowd, targeting Cranky Kong, who was now making out with the cross-dressing Birdo.

_Actually, what was Birdo? Did he want to find out? Probably not…_

Another train whistle blew, scrambling his thoughts. He sat up, straightening his overalls and shirt. The train had come earlier than expected.

He lifted a wooden sign above his head with the person's name on it, hoping it'll be easily recognizable from the train.

_Oh boy, I hope I know what I'm doing…_

**Few things: **

**If you paid close attention to the story thus far, you might have an idea on who the person is. But keep it to yourselves so everyone else can try.**

**Second, if you don't know who The King is, I suggest you type 'faces of evil' in youtube and watch the opening sequence. People who know CD-I and youtube poops will recognize the character.**


	17. Pink Meets Pink

She had warned them. But, they did not heed.

The Princess skulked against the wall, twirling a frying pan between her fingers.

Her perfect cake. Gone. Vanquished. Devoured. Her scrumptious, earthly, vibrant, mouth-watering, eye-popping, fantastic…well, you get the idea. It was for her Mario, her itsy-witsy, tootsy-pootsie Mario-pie. A perfect cake designed by a perfect woman, specifically for a perfect man.

But noooooooooo. Everyone else thought they were perfect, too. When poor, innocent Princess Peach wasn't looking, the little devils tackled her perfect cake, scrounging over it like vicious animals over a kill, cackling to each other about how they fooled Peach, they fooled her rotten. Those…those….poopie-heads!

Peach pumped a fist into the air, proud of her insult.

The scoundrels had to be taught a lesson. Why, she had even asked them in her prettiest, sweetest, cutest, sexiest voice – and they _still_ didn't listen. The nerve!

Eyes narrowed into slits, teeth grinding away bits of enamel, she held the frying pan out in front of her. She frowned when she saw her reflection in the bloody frying pan – ugh, if she didn't clean her body quick, she might be mistaken for Wario's date.

_Wario_…

*****

Kirby wake. Sleep good. Sleep best friend to Kirby.

Kirby hungry. Go to food place. Kirby like food.

Kirby hop off bed. Open door. Ike greet Kirby.

Ike on ground. Ike sleep. Moan in sleep. Ike hold head. Ike hold butt. Red food on Ike head. Kirby like red food. Kirby wave.

Ike not wave.

Kirby wave.

Ike not wave.

Ike best friend to Kirby.

Ike talk, "uuuuuhhhhh......my head……my ass……frying pan……"

Kirby smile. Pat Ike head. Ike tell funny story.

Kirby walk down hall. Go to food place.

*****

Peach tumbled into a roll, right behind a sofa. Anyone see her?

She poked her eyes over the sofa, shifting them left and right. No, nothing.

Wario. How could she have forgotten him? The lewd bastard was all ways up to his smelly tricks. Literally.

She ducked back down, clutching her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth on her butt.

After discovering the empty container, Peach had let out an angry gasp. Then one by one, she scolded them and bopped each on the head with the frying pan. You know, just enough to make them feel bad about themselves and regret their awful decisions.

_Hm. Let's see. Wolf, Link, Sonic, Zelda, Bowser…_

She counted each one off her fingers, and finished with a furrowed brow.

Nope. Wario wasn't one of them. That mound of lard deserved a good spanking.

But wait. Wasn't there someone else who ate a lot of food? Yeah, Wario inhaled everything, even chomping down on Pichu the one time. And Yoshi, yeah, that tongue saw the light of day more than Yoshi himself. But wasn't there someone else? Someone small…round…pink…

Peach pressed her forehead into her fingers, brain about to split in half. Agh! There _was_ someone like that, right? Ergh…

Ah, screw it!

From somewhere behind her, Sonic moaned out, "Uuurrrgghhh…my ass…something died inside my ass…"

Peach, still crouched down behind the sofa, giggled sweetly to the frying pan. She nudged it with her elbow, as if expecting it to giggle with her.

Well, some of them deserved a little bit more than a bop on the head…

*****

_What? Where am I? What am I doing here?_

_Ah, yes, precisely now. I had been investigating the boiling points and freezing point of several liquids. Determining the particles' velocities in regards to the atmospheric temperatures, the net loss of heat should consist of the molecular structure of the sun's energy. Thus, this heat derived from these liquids, hovering within the Earth's natural elemental capabilities, could oxidate into a ball of matter, held within the palm of the hand. Add electricity to bacteria, and douse it with natural matter formulated from the liquids, I could create life! I have done it! I could construct an entire race right in my laboratory! I have -_

A piece of the ceiling crumbled away and landed on Wario's head.

He farted.

After picking his nose and sniffing his finger, he decided to go to the kitchen.

*****

Kirby wave. Ganondorf, Fox, Olimar, Captain Falcon, Nana, Marth…no wave. Everyone sleep. On floor.

Kirby have best friend in world.

Kirby go to food place.

*****

Peach sidled along the wall, peering around the corner.

Empty.

Her eyes whizzed around in all directions, tip-toeing down the corridor, frying pan in swinging stance…

*****

Wario reached the top of the steps, stretching his arms and legs. Satisfied, he was about to turn, when a delicious little glimmer lassoed his eyes.

A penny.

His flab jiggling, his mustache twitching, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his mouth overflowing with drool, he bent over to snatch his treasure.

As soon as he felt the copper cooling in his strong, handsome hands, he farted. The force of the fart propelled him forward, right back down the stairs. His gelatinous body bounced down the steps, his head bonking into the wall at the bottom. He fell over, unconscious.

*****

Smell. Kirby like smell. Garlic.

Kirby smile. Kirby like garlic.

Kirby run. Find smell.

*****

Something punched her in the nose.

Sniff* sniff*

Wario…_I'm on his trail._

She sprinted.

*****

Kirby turn corner…

*****

Peach sprinted around the bend…

*****

The icing-covered blob met the frying pan-wielding princess.

They stared at each other from the ends of the corridor. She with her eyes boiling, teeth prepared for ripping, hair burning, fingernails ready for tearing, frying pan sizzling. He, with only a smile.

The princess heaved a foot forward, meeting the ground with a sickening crunch*.

The pink blob waved.

The princess heaved her other foot forward, punching a hole through the floor.

The pink blob waved and smiled.

The air died, its oxygen sucked out. Death quivered in the shadows, gnawing on its bony hand. Life beyond the corridor ceased to exist, a void into nothingness.

The pink blob did not wave. The pink blob did not smile.

She charged.


	18. At Least He Looks Normal

**Hey, sorry I haven't updated in a few days. I had some work to do for ESPN. Internship – don't ask.**

_She was dead._

_And it was his fault._

_Two years; it's been two years since he resigned from the intergalactic space team. No, he did not miss them, nor did he regret his decision. _

_His piloting skills were precise, beaming perfection. With him on the team, they had stomped the bad guys and saved galaxies from fates far worse than death. Armies, mad scientists, weird-looking anglar fish – they buzzed around their heads like flies, and when they landed for a breather, SPLAT* goes the flyswatter. By golly, they were a team to be reckoned with._

_But this couldn't drag on forever. They were holding him back, his full potential unable to barge out of the locked door. Yeah, he was part of a powerful team, branding a name that lit hope and happiness in the hearts of millions. Though, did they not care for the pilots that jigsaw this team together? Of course not. Nobody bothered to acknowledge his accomplishments, his skills, his _name; _just as long as he could get the job done. All that hard training and studying– he didn't drive himself over the edge for nothing._

_Enough of this. Time to move on._

_With his past lingering behind him, his ambitions lurking somewhere behind the floating rock and dust, he zipped off on his own, never once looking back._

_The solo pilot drifted aimlessly through the dark void, his ambitions growling with hunger. Though, if one were to try and follow the pilot, his trail would not be difficult to find. Because he all ways left behind his name._

_For six months the lone pilot skimmed the galaxies, hopping from planet to planet. The denizens offered him a chance to obliterate whatever treachery threatened to harm them. And with a flick of his wrist, he nabbed the bad guys and thwarted their plans. As thanks, the planets he saved honored him dearly. Some rewarded him with medals and riches. Several armies insisted on recruiting him. Why, even one particular race had molded a statue in his likeness, situated smack-dab right in the middle of their kingdom._

_His name. They finally knew who he was. The locked door had finally been picked open; his skills had finally blossomed. Everyone could witness how truly unique and beautiful they were._

_But as much as he relished in his accomplishments, he couldn't brush away the thoughts that were dirtying his mind. His journeys seemed…pointless, as if for a lost cause. He didn't feel any closer to his dreams of being the best. An emptiness butterflied inside him – what could he possibly net it with? _

_Well, after those six lonely months, someone walked into his life and offered him the biggest butterfly net…that love could buy._

_Oh, she was a skunk, but who cares? Her eyes twinkled with a love and passion, not just for him, but for the same ambitions he strived for. She possessed skills and intelligence that matched his, with an attitude to top. Why, if he didn't know better, she could have been his female doppelganger. Well, except for one trait…_

_The last thing she ever cared about was herself. Other people came first – including he. And when she offered a hand to him, with his image reflecting in her twinkling eyes, he could see himself for the first time._

_You see, he had been alone most his life, surrounding himself with impeccable walls so no one could reach out to him. His focus was stapled to his dream and too much personal dwaddling with other lives would only stall him. But this woman…had just melted his barriers into puddles of nothing, his selfishness and ignorance rivering down into a storm drain._

_He had netted the butterfly. With his soul mate. Thanks to her, the emptiness and depression never returned to nag at him. She was his watchdog, barking away those nasty feeling that had plagued him for years._

_Clutching her hand in his, they sailed off, once again hopping from planet to planet, repeating what he had done before he met her. Only, this time, he cared._

_Before he met her, he had done his missions with no real passion. Didn't really matter to him about the feelings of others, about how they felt being rescued from inevitable doom. To him, it was just one planet to the next, reaching closer and closer to his dream of becoming the galaxy's most well-respected pilot._

_But with her along, he actually cared. He celebrated with the people, extended his hand and feelings to others, made sure that they felt safe. The people appreciated him, loved him, begged him to come back and visit soon. Rather than just a pilot who saved them, they looked at him as a fatherly figure, a man who risked his life for the sake of others. Word spread around fifty times faster than it had before, and within a quick eighteen months, both could fondle their dreams within the palms of their hands. The greatest pilots to have ever lived._

_Goals accomplished, the two whisked away far into the corners of the galaxy, retiring onto a little, lonesome planet. Here, they wished to develop their relationship more, maybe even wed and start a family. _

_Of course, that's not going to happen._

_His girlfriend lay next to him, the hole in her forehead sizzling from the blaster shot, the twinkling in her eyes long gone._

_The chameleon hovered his head down next to the pilot's, the forked tongue slithering inside his ear._

"_Ah…Oh…I love the taste of anger…mmm…hatred…give me more…more…"_

_The pilot lunged at him, but to no avail. He had been tied to a chair, his arms useless behind him._

_The chameleon flicked his eyes in different directions and sneered, unfazed by the pilot's retaliation. He moved his head away, standing fully erect, and began to lick the blood from the tip of his blaster._

_During their heroic voyages, the two pilots had made tons of friends. Though, when it comes to heroes, there are all ways going to be a few who negate them. Particularly the ones that had their evil plans trampled over._

_Today, when he had gone out to run a few errands, he had left his girlfriend behind. Defenseless, not expecting an attack, the chameleon and his goons ransacked the house. Arriving back home, he sensed trouble, and tried to take them out himself. Stupid, stupid decision. He should have called for back-up, or have had someone else run his errands. Too late now._

_He was able to kill a few of them, but their numbers overwhelmed him, and he blacked out. The next thing he knew he was in a giant, bare room blazed in light. A few yards in front of him kneeled his beloved, a blaster nudging the back of her head. A sick laugh from the chameleon, then a zap*. He had watched her die. No…_

_The bad guy patted his belly, like he had finished a Thanksgiving dinner, and crept over to the pilot, a toothpick twitching between his teeth. He stopped when they touched toe-to-toe, and he bent over, his face inches from the pilots. His breath flattened against the pilot's face, but he refused to look away._

_The chameleon gurgled out, "Mmm…virgin blood taste mighty good. Thanks for saving her for me. I enjoy a good meal."_

_He stood up, one arm across his chest, the other's elbow placed on top. He nestled his scaly chin into his hand and caressed his chin. The pilot could not tell how the chameleon felt – his eyes kept darting in every direction and his tongue wormed and licked random spots on his face._

_He spoke to the pilot like he was giving the "where do babies come from" speech to a little kid, "You see, I had something taken away from me. My son, if you so recall squeezing his throat in your hands. And, it's only customary that I take away something in return. I hope you understand."_

_He watched the pilot's reaction to his words. Exactly what he wanted. The pilot slumped over, the fight in his eyes drained away. He looked like a man who…well…had given up on life._

_The chameleon smiled, or what looked like a smile, and crept over to the opposite wall. He latched open the door and idled out the door, flicking off the lights as he departed._

_She was dead. Gone. Forever. He had watched her die. All because of his big, fat ego. He would never forgive himself. Never. No one could ever salvage the kindness from his heart ever again. Why continue on, when the only one you ever loved, the only one that understood his feelings, could no longer watch you smile?_

_The door closed, blasting an echo into the room. And into the pilot's mind, his own door closed and locked once again, the key thrown far into the abyss._

_*****_

PING*

_Bulls-eye!_

PING* PING*

_Oh yeah, on fire, baby!_

PING* PING* PING*

_Okay, just one more for a perfect score…_

"Pika!"

Falco, his mind thrown off balance, whipped his blaster way off to the right, narrowly missing a ducking Luigi.

The bird stomped a foot at the plumber. "Oh man, I was this close to getting a perfect score!" He emphasized his point by making a little circle with his thumb and pointer finger.

Luigi slowly stood up, "I hope you mean the target and not me."

Falco laughed when he saw the plumber smile. "Of course, of course. Geez, you'd think I'd actually hit ya?" He noticed the picnic basket in Luigi's hand and slotted his blaster into his holster. "Time for the picnic, I take it?"

Before Luigi could answer, Falco felt a tiny tugging at his ankle. Pikachu hopped up and down, bopping his head up and down.

"Pika! Pi-chu."

The pilot bent down and scooped up the pokemon. Pikachu nuzzled into his armpit, its butt wiggling uncontrollably. He scratched behind an ear with a feathered finger.

"Hm. I guess I'll take that as a yes."

As soon as he ended his sentence, Pikachu popped out of his arms plopped face-first onto the ground. He commenced his I'm-ready-to-play-come-on-and-chase-me position, his butt still wiggling madly.

Luigi flirted out, "Oh, you want to play again? Well, the yard is bigger…" Pikachu shifted himself into Luigi's direction, still wiggling. "Hm…I guess I'll –" the plumber tried to trick Pikachu by diving before he could finish the sentence, but the pokemon was ready. He scampered away, leaving Luigi with a face-plant.

Falco chuckled into his hand as Luigi yelled after Pikachu. They zig-zagged away from him, tearing up the ground on the opposite side of the yard.

"Perfect score? Phl. Please…"

Falco poked his eyes through his open hand at a smiling Samus, hands on her hips. He flinched backwards at the sight of her clothes.

"Wha! Samus, what made you decide to become a girl today?"

"Eh. Wanted to be more appropriate for our little get-together."

"Uh…Hm. No offense, but the pink shirt and the short-shorts don't really mesh well with you."

"Oh, don't worry, I haven't lost my mind. The minute we get back I'm burning these clothes."

Falco held his sides and laughed while Samus stretched her collar out with one finger, a disgusted look slapped on her face. Behind them, Luigi continued to egg on Pikachu, the pokemon piping out a "pika" once in a while.

Samus pointed at Falco, "Well, you shouldn't be the one to talk. Looks like someone painted your clothes on."

Falco dropped his gaze down to his torso. Yeah, he had to admit, he felt a little uncomfortable in this get-up. Instead of wearing his usual beige jacket, brown pants, and battle boots, he dressed himself in a tight black tee shirt and a pair of loose jeans., his blue tail poking out from them.

He looked back at Samus, shrugging, "I really don't have an excuse. Hey, I tried my best. Not used to dressing informal. But at least I look normal." He snickered this last line toward Samus's direction.

Samus pulled out her phazer gun, a crude smile warped on her face. "Ha ha. Very funny. But you won't look normal after I blow your face off."

Ignoring her comment, Falco scratched his head, "Hey, Samus. You don't have a holster on you. Where did that gun come from?"

Smiling, but not as insanely, Samus stepped forward, "Nevermind that. What's this I hear about that you can't get a perfect score?"

Falco crossed his arms over his chest and pointed his beak away. "Hmph. So?"

"Just thought I rub it in that I all ready scored a perfect. Three times."

"Wow. Thanks for the support, mate."

"Hey, I'm new at this 'being nice' stuff. Give me time."

Suddenly, she heard a breathless "pika", and looked down to see the little pokemon torpedo through her legs. She stopped laughing, mystified at the sudden appearance of Pikachu, running away from her, right to Falco. He also stopped, watching Pikachu as he scratched his head.

As Samus watched Pikachu begin to dart through Falco's legs, she thought to herself, _What in the world has bugged that pokemon up the ass?_

She mouthed an 'oh no', the reason for it just hitting her. Literally.

Luigi, once again not aware of his surroundings, plowed his head right into Samus's backside, propelling the bounty huntress forward. She tripped over herself, crashing right into Falco, who was still looking down at his legs. Falco toppled over, landing right on his back. The much taller and heavier Samus followed suit, squashing the poor falcon. Luigi, his head a bit foggy from colliding into Samus's butt, tripped over a root, and landed on top of Samus, an 'oof' wheezing out of all three mouths.

And just to add insult to injury, a large tree branch dangling above them snapped off, cascading right onto Luigi's head.

Samus on top of Falco, Luigi on top of Samus, the three moaned and groaned, sandwiched in a world of hurt. On such a warm, beautiful, sunny day…

Off to the side sat Pikachu, clapping his stubby arms together, squeaking "Pika, Pika!". _Yay! That was really funny. They really know how to make me laugh!_

Hey, Pikachu, I wouldn't stick around very long if I were you…

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed my story. I'll get around to reading your stuff, probably when I'm done. And I'm open for beta-reading, so if anyone wants their material checked, I'd be honored.**


	19. Space Pilot Meets Plumber

_Life sucked for Falco ever since his girlfriend died._

_Anger. So much anger. It fried away his mind, slowly losing control of himself. He just wanted…wanted to beat everything. Strangle the lamp. Spank the television. Punching ol' Mr. Weatherby right in the face. _

_With his girlfriend gone, all the negative aspects that she had kept at bay had returned in full force, an army that he stood no chance against. He had reverted to his old self – times ten thousand._

_Alienating himself from society, he sulked in his room, pacing back and forth. He pecked at his hands, his mind miles away from reality. Food, sleep, time: none of that mattered, they're just dust in the attic. Ten years could have stomped by him, even slapping his across the face. He could care less._

_But one thing he did care about. His girlfriend. Dead. Because of him, with his stupid thinking and large ego. _

_He could redeem himself a bit. Maybe stop his girlfriend from screaming in her grave. The poor thing…_

_A stingy, unkempt Falco stared daringly into the mirror, his blood-shot eyes sinking back into his head._

_Leon. He would kill Leon. The damn chameleon._

_He knew attempting to hunt the dishrag himself would be the same as signing his own death warrant; the monster never slithered two feet without a guard breathing down his neck. So, there was only one thing that he could do._

_Rejoin Star Fox._

_And rejoin he did. His teammates congratulated him on his sheer success through the galaxies, following with their condolences for his loss. Whatever, Falco didn't listen. _

_For hours, for days, he locked himself in his room, his health degenerating faster than a slinky going down the steps. The light scorched his eyes, the sound of footsteps clanged between his ears, his room reeking of an undistinguishable species of fish. Why, he hadn't groomed himself for weeks; who knows what kinds of little green men lived within those stale feathers._

_And still, no food, no sleep, no concept of time. He just…faded away, gradually killing himself. But he ignored the stabbing pains and the bouldering aches. Nope, couldn't be bothered. His mind was clamped down like a bear trap on one objective – his determination to slit the chameleon's throat and watch him drown in his own greasy blood._

_For weeks, the dying pilot searched long and far for Leon's headquarters, his beak buried into a large map, his eyes squashed against it. Oh no, he wasn't going to miss any spot. These galaxies were huge, but his madness ate them for breakfast. He would find the bastard…_

_His efforts were futile. Leon had disappeared into thin air._

_Falco, his feathers all most completely molten, hung like an ornament over the back of his chair, unable to think anymore. Maybe…maybe, he should join her and keep her company…_

_But then the Super Smash Bros. invitation came for Fox and him._

_Fox , walking into the damp, dark room, shook the falcon by his shoulders and slapped him across the face, yelling at him to pull himself together. He flung one of the envelopes into Falco's lap, gesturing him to open it with a child-like anticipation. The bird ripped the letter out with his beak and read it._

_Super Smash Bros….Yeah, this could be good for him. Maybe fighting will grind his gears, spark some life back into him. His health had to improve; Falco couldn't recognize himself in the mirror anymore. Yes, he needed to clear his mind; for his lost love. Why, someone might even know the whereabouts of Leon!_

_So, he and Fox travelled via Arwing to the mysterious Smash Mansion, the center hub for all universes. He wasn't going to give up on himself and his girlfriend yet – maybe I'll even have a decent time here._

_Nah. Not even close. For one thing, the bathrooms were all ways occupied._

_He knocked on the door, a booted foot tapping the floor. "C'mon, Olimar! Don't make me come in there and shove my blaster up your ass!" he caressed his gun as he said this._

_No response. Oh man, he hated this!_

_WHAP* _

_Falco stuck two feathered fingers in his nostrils, his eyes watering. Ugh, some horrendous stench had slapped his face! Hm…smelled like spoiled meat mixed with motor oil. Oh, if that little alien turd contaminated the bathroom…_

_All of a sudden, a fly buzzed into his eye. The falcon flailed his arms about, his eye twitching. Stupid flies, they never know where they're going…_

_AH GEEZ! Pluck his fingers from his nose for one second, and that oily meat stench was roaring right behind his back. How could an odor be so intoxicating?_

_Another fly buzzed by him. And another. And another. And then a horse fly landed on him, chomping down on his forehead. He tried to smack it, but resulted in giving himself a bruise._

_While busy whisking flies from his face, a low grumbling spluttered from behind him. Oh great, someone else in line for the bathroom. Well, maybe he'll know about this fly infestation…_

_Falco turned to the person, but his neck immediately snapped back, a hand cast over his eyes. Did he just see that?!_

_Behind him stood the fattest, greasiest, ugliest, smelliest, most perverted-looking man Falco's virgin eyes had ever lay on. Gunk, dirt, and stains weaved through the man's purple overalls. His yellow shirt was matted with sweat, a dozen or so flies resting on his shoulders and sucking the foul liquid. The yellow hat on his head laid askew, his hair as thick and glossy as cardboard. Sweat trickled from his armpits, dropping onto the floor in puddles. His breathing wheezed out like clogged muffler, little black clouds floating from his mouth. Oh, and he really needed to brush his teeth – he thought he _heard _mold growing on them._

_Thank the heavens, the man's face was buried into a magazine. If he had to make eye contact with such a monstrosity…ugh…_

_Something in the magazine corked a chuckle out of the gelatinous man. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings, especially the flies that crawled into his pointy ears._

Greedy Bastards Weekly: _ten ways to take candy from a baby._

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

_The bathroom door idled open, the little Olimar marching out with his pikmin behind him. Guess he didn't know there was toilet stuck on his foot. Oh well._

_Falco sighed out, "Finally!" and proceeded to enter the bathroom, thankful both to be in the bathroom and to have a door between the smelly scuzzbag._

_Before he could lift up a leg, the flabby man waddled into the bathroom, his body momentarily squashing the bird to the wall. The man had left a sweaty imprint on Falco's pant leg. _

_At first he was mortified from the man's impossibly bad hygiene. But then his mind slowly started to tick into another gear._

_The yellow blob had the nerve to shove him out of the way, without even looking up from his magazine to apologize for his rudeness? Let alone for his hygiene? Well, maybe he should be thankful that he didn't have to see that face…no, wait! What was he saying?_

_Falco's piss boiled inside his loins, the firey mist fuming from his ears. The blood vessels in his eyes exploded like fireworks, his pupils dilated to nothingness. His feathers on his head rose in a threatening manner, the muscles in his chest expanding so violently that they tore open his shirt and jacket. The veins in his chest and arms pulsated sickly, on the verge of popping._

_He pulled out his blaster with one hand, and with the other hand he rapped his knuckles on the door._

_One tap is all it took, because in the next instance, Falco felt the door breeze past his face, torn off from the hinges and crunching into the opposite wall._

_Oh, he shouldn't have looked at the doorway. Now he'd have nightmares forever._

_The glubby sack of fat's face gleamed with bacon grease, a pointy and zig-zaggy mustache twitching about. Saucer-like eyes bulged from their sockets, fixated right on Falco. His purple nose cracked along the surface, boogers glooping out of them. Serrated teeth chomped toward his direction…well, whaddaya know? If it weren't for that purple nose and that mustache, you couldn't tell the man's fat head from his fat butt._

_The jelly-like creature wheezed painfully, but a murderous glare lurked deep within those eyes. "Who dare disturb the Great Wario!?" _

_Falco reflected back the glare. Sure, he was an abomination to mankind, but the sweaty blimp probably couldn't catch him if he ran – might have a heart attack and keel over. This would be a piece of cake._

_He raised his blaster into a shooting position. "Just who do you think you are, shoving people out of the way like you own the world? Huh? Answer me!"_

_For a split second, Wario's face scrunched up, as if he had sucked on a hundred lemons, but then it returned to normal. _

_As he spoke, his voice bellowed louder and louder, shaking the Mansion very slightly. "You…dare…insult…The Great…WARIO?!!!"_

Enough of this.

_Falco raised his blaster into a shooting position, his finger tingling on the trigger. When Wario saw the gun, the anger melted from his face. Instead of cowering (which Falco hope he would), the fat man hopped up and down and clapped his hands. The Mansion rattles slightly under his weight._

_Then, to Falco's surprise, the yellow-clad pile of puke hobbled toward him, ignoring the gun._

_Falco sneered._ Wow. What a brainless fool. Going to get himself killed. Meh, I'll be doing the heavens a favor.

_He fired, a bright bluish-white light streaming from his gun. It danced in the air, blowing kisses and sparks to the crowd, then bee-lined for its large target._

_When the light touched something, that object dissipated into nothing, leaving nothing but clothes and ash behind. But the light bounced off Wario's stomach like it was some wobbly trampoline, and missiled right back toward Falco. Too stunned to retaliate, his blaster still in its firing position, the deflected light-laser zapped his blaster, smoldering it into useless ashes._

_No way this thing was human. _

_Falco tried to turn and run away, but he did not realize how close he was to the wall. SPLAT*_

_Behind him, Wario snorted and belched some kind of "Oooo". He could hear those soggy footsteps splashing closer…Oh, he was going to be eaten alive by a monster…and he never killed Leon...His girlfriend would scream in her grave forever…_

"_Hello there, sirs!"_

_Behind them stood a short man in a three-piece suit, his face stuffed with a flowing white beard and mustache, kooky glasses, and frantic white hair. With all that hair and covering, it was impossible to see any of the man's facial expressions. Though, when he talked, his mustache flapped up and down. His voice sounded nasally and squeaky and he talked very salesman-like. _

_He waved a paper out in front of him as if it were a flag on a stick. "One of you gentlemen wouldn't happened to be name the –" He paused, shooting an eye to the paper " – Great Wario?"_

_Wario, snickering through clenched teeth, hobbled/stomped over to the stranger. Though it was only a five second walk, he stopped after every step, taking ten or fifteen seconds to pose and make muscles for an invisible crowd. Satisfied that his people loved him, Wario tossed his bulk inches from the stranger's face. Wario's own face breathed into the strangers, a yellowish gas poofing out from his nostrils. The stranger was able to hold back a gagging reflex; Falco figured out something definitely wasn't right. A normal person would have buried themselves twelve hundred feet underground just to flee from such a stench._

"_Yes, I am the Great Wario."_

_The stranger jumped back, throwing the paper in the air like confetti._

"_Congratulations! You have just won a free dinner!"_

_The old man stretched a table out from…behind him…somewhere(?) and slammed it on the ground. The table had all ready been set; tablecloth, plates, utensils, a long candle burning as a centerpiece. He then tweaked a chair out from behind him, and scooped Wario up with it, settling him down in front of the table._

"_Today, you lucky world leader you, are going to try some of the finest gourmet in all the universes. And, the recipes…" The stranger leaned closer to Wario, a hand slightly covering his bearded mouth, "were created just for you."_

_Wario relaxed back in his seat, giggling and clapping his hands like school girl with a wet toilet brush clogged in her throat._

_The stranger looked at his watch. "Ah, it is time." He whistled into his fingers then zoomed off Sonic-like, leaving only a cloud of white dust._

_Emerging from the hallway was very tall and busty blonde, garbed in a white chef's coat and hat. She carried a silver platter, the lid covering it. She looked just as misplaced as the old man; for one thing, she looked like she wanted to rip someone's beating heart out._

_She stopped at Wario's table, her hand on the lid handle. She shifted her eyebrows up and down._

"_So, how do you want to be done?"_

"_Oh, I, the Great Wario, demand well-done."_

_The blonde sneered, "Of course you do…"_

_She tossed the lid over her shoulder and Pikachu jumped out, drilling hundreds of volts into the evil fat man. He lit up brighter than a light bulb, his body sporadically flopping around. The blonde had her arms crossed over her chest, her head thrown back into a deep guffaw._

_A hand grabbed Falco's shoulder. He flinched, but reluctantly spun his vision to the stranger's direction. Without warning, the stranger chucked his beard, hair, glasses, and suit in one fell swoop. He offered a hand out to Falco._

"_Whoo, we got here in just the nick of time. The name's Luigi. Hm, you look like you could use a good meal."_

_That twinkling in his eyes…_

_The walls around Falco crumbled away, smashing his 'bitchy personality" into nothing but pebble. The locked spontaneously combusted, the door inside him torn off its hinges, his full potential free once more. And now, he had found someone else to share his feeling with, to help give meaning to those that needed it, to make sure that he never, ever reverted back to a psychotic, suicidal state. _

_Falco gripped Luigi's hand. And refused to let go._


	20. That Missile Isn't Suspicious Looking

**Kirby fans, cheer on! Peach fans, might want to look away, heh heh…**

Kirby dashed down the hallway he had come from. The frying pan thonked on the carpet, right where the little blob had stood.

Peach cackled after him.

Kirby zig-zagged randomly across the hallway, hoping to confuse her and slip away. In some degree, it worked; every time she had a clear shot at him with her pan, the little bugger squirted out at the last second. Unfortunately, it only resulted in the princess ripping off a chunk of the frying pan with her teeth.

They raced around the corner, and Kirby darted through the door immediately to the right, slamming it shut. Peach did not follow, but sidled alongside the wall next to it.

Oh, the little piece of crap could not outsmart her royal perfectness; he hid in the supply closet. Peach couldn't help but chuckle. The only things that were in there were cleaning supplies, sparsely organized, so he couldn't cower behind a clutter of containers. Sure, he was small, but not that small. No place to run.

She couldn't wait to grind the frying pan through his eye and shish-kabob his little body with some juicy pears, succulent apples, yummy…

Peach twirled a 360 on her tip-toes, basking in her glory of perfect cooking, while foaming viciously at the mouth. If one were to walk in at this time, one would feel disturbed to see the body and gracefulness of a ballerina dancing in next to nothing, with a snarling, bloodied bear for a face.

Grinning with exposed teeth, she trounced over to the door. One hand on the knob, the other with the frying pan positioned to attack, she flung the door open, and -

CRASH!

The top shelf toppled onto her head, throwing her off balance, and while in the process of trying to maintain stability, she banged herself in the forehead with the pan. She fell down hard on her butt.

_Ooo…look at all the pretty colors…_

Her vision fuzzy, she saw a pink blur flash from her feet and run around behind her. Something clicked behind her. Then silence.

Dizzy, but not hurt, Peach smacked her hands around on the ground, like someone trying to find something in the dark. Still on her butt, Peach swirled into a push-up position, knees on the ground. She crawled forward, inching little by little, until…

SNAP!

Pain exploded through her body, her hand throbbing like a drum. A yelp crept from her mouth and she fell back on her butt. Tears clotted her eyes as she held her hand up. Something clutched viciously to her fingers.

A mousetrap.

That little ****.

Her beautiful nails had just been manicured, painted the prettiest and most perfectest pink. Now, ruined. Who would want to look at her now? Oh, the horrors! Mario would throw a quarantine sign around her neck and toss her in the farthest corner of the Mansion, no longer any use to him because she wasn't perfect.

Steam rising from her pores, she cranked off the mousetrap and tossed it over her shoulder. She stood up, watching for any signs of movement.

All was still.

Suddenly, the pink blob darted from behind a door and ran straight toward her.

Before Peach could even blink, the little, tiny pink blob collided with her ankle. Her feet were swept out from under her, and like the hands of a clock, Peach's legs swung over her head. She turned ninety degrees in the air, causing the right side of her face to smash into the wall.

Peach landed in a heap, her limbs sprawled out in awkward directions. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.

_Oh…my beautiful, sexy, perfect body…ouch…_

When she opened her eyes, her frying pan fluttered above her, seconds away from impacting her cute and precious face.

_Oh, what fun…_

WHANK!

Peach pealed the frying off, her face now as flat as a pancake. She sat up and shook her head, reverting it back to its original shape.

From the corner of her eye, Kirby zoomed down to the end of the hall, nudging open the door at the end. He squeezed through the narrow opening and clicked it shut.

The most heavenly admired woman in the world shot off from the hall and sprinted after him. She couldn't let the pipsqueak slink away from his discipline that easily. He needed a good scolding. And a bonk to the head. Hee hee hee…

Not bothering to open the door, she ran through it, wood splintering across the room. She roared at the room, frying pan at her side.

The living room. This is where many of the Smashers would relax in between matches, particularly for those who had little time in between to do anything else. They could kick back, relax, and flip the tube on, maybe to watch 'Waddle Dee 911' or 'Plumber's Academy', or if they were really daring, Vin Diesel.

Several recliners lined the center of the room, similar in fashion to a movie theater. But these were Lay-Z-Boys, spaced out, facing the wall to her right. The television itself hung on the wall, the blank screen leering down at her.

To the left, all the way against the wall, hummed a cooler and a coffee machine. The cooler had just been stocked, the colorful labels of 'Falcon Punch' blinding her eyes.

And next to the cooler, balanced on a tripod, loomed an oversized missile.

Nothing appeared out of place. No sign of Kirby either.

Peach squatted and poked her frying pan through all the crevasses on the nearest chair. Not there. She peeked underneath. Not there either. She tossed the enormous chair over her shoulder nonchalantly, and proceeded to the next one. And the next one. And the next one.

_Why did this have to happen to me? My poor precious ookie-pookie Mario must be sitting in the kitchen right now, face buried in his hands. He was sooooo excited for my cake, but now he can't have it… Oh, The Heavens, what atrocities have I committed for receiving such a punishment? I can't think of any. Is it because I'm too pretty?..._

Something clicked over by the cooler.

Peach froze.

CLICK*

The princess stampeded past the chairs, some blown onto their sides because of her windy speed. She skidded to a halt, flames sprouting from the friction and igniting parts of the carpet.

Her reflection in the cooler cackled along with her. No escaping this time.

She grabbed to door handle, but instead of simply opening, she plucked it off its hinges, lobbing it off to the side. Then, after rubbing her hands and cackling some more, she grabbed the cans and tossed them over her shoulders, one by one.

This whole time, the missile had been tracking Peach's every movement, its crosshairs never off her for a second. Now it followed her as she jumped to the side of the cooler, shoving her eyes into the small opening between it and the wall.

She bent over to examine the ground closer, her big caboose nearing the power button. The button that, if pushed, will turn the missile on and fire at its target. Which will incinerate its victim with a fiery boom!*

Something must have attracted her attention because she bent down more. Her butt shifted closer to the button. And closer. And closer…

*****

Kirby hopped off the missile and sprinted to the door. He exited through the man-sized hole and turned right, running as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

BOOM!!!*

The walls vibrated around him. He stopped and turned around, just in time to see a wisp of smoke exploding from the hole in the door.

Quiet. All most too quiet…

Suddenly a giant fireball burst through the wall, chunks of wood and plaster sprinkling the entire hallway. It shrieked, opening its arm toward the sky.

*****

_Ah! She was ablaze! Now who would love her when she was only a pile of smoldering ash?!_

She shook her body. The flames flicked out, leaving behind a blackened, ash-like princess. She blinked, saw Kirby gazing at her, and she snarled, the flames igniting on her body again.

After shaking the fire out again, she pulled her frying pan out from behind her, and shadowed after the fleeing pink ball. He blurred past an open door and clicked it behind him.

Peach ran up to the door and cackled once again. Her eyes narrowed to match her cackle.

The wee blob had once again taken refuge in a tiny supply closet. Only, there was absolutely nothing in it. No shelves, no mop and bucket, no cleaning supplies; the room was never used, just an empty space. And now, he was trapped, with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide…

Rubbing her hands with anticipation, she skipped over to the door, pretending she was sailing through a beautiful field of pink flowers. She grabbed the knob, ready to throw it open, but stopped.

A sound emanated from behind the door.

BEEP* BEEP* BEEP*

She pressed an ear against the door then stood away, scratching her chin.

_What could possibly be behind that door? There's nothing in it besides Blobby!_

The sounds seemed to be augmenting, growing closer to the door.

BEEP* BEEP* BEEP*

_Eh, maybe it's his wristwatch? Gasp* maybe it's one of those watches that come in Silly Meals from McWaddle Dees! I wonder if he has the cupcake one; that's the only one I need. Man, this is so cool!_

Peach smiled, the ash on her body melting to the floor. Flowers bloomed on the ground and birds chirped in chorus. The grass grew greener, the sun shone brighter…ooo, such a perfect smile!

Thoughts of killing Kirby all but gone, Peach absentmindedly flung the door open. She begged to the heavens that the watch Kirby possessed was the one she needed.

The giant steamroller crawled out and flattened her into a pancake.

_Ow…that one hurt a little…_


	21. The Army of Darkness

**NOTE: This is not the "Dr. Eggman" you're used to. This is Dr. Robotnik from "The adventures of sonic the hedgehog." This version seemed to fit with the story more.**

"I…am Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-obtonik!"

The seven hundred pound man screamed into the telephone, spit shooting out and dripping down the receiver.

Yes, you heard him, kids. He is Dr. Ivo Robotnik. The most evil and greatest genius in all of Mobius, maybe the world. A 300 IQ, no one could top that. A bachelor's degree in evil brilliance. Oh please, he finished that in only a year, while it took his inferior classmates four years. Oh yeah, and who couldn't forget the legion of robots he programmed to obey his every command – you know anyone else as smart, as evil, as beautiful, as Dr. Ivo Robotnik? Don't make me laugh!

For years, the citizens of Mobius have cringed from the smiles of Dr. Ivo Robotnik, his evil genius face towering over them on large monitors. He would say something ridiculously evil, tweak his mustache, giggle to himself, proclaim how 'evil genius' flowed through his luscious veins, giggle some more, proclaim that he is the 'Great Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-r-obotnik', and turn the monitors off to a hopeless, depressed Mobius.

Dr. Robotnik had it all – right in the palm of his hand. He could stroll through the cities and point to random people to lick his feet. And if they didn't, why, he'd simply snap his fingers and his loyal robotic minions would sack the little disobedient scum. Oh yes…Oh yes! He was the great Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-r-obotnik!

But, oooooo…Sonic…he destroyed his ambitions! His schemes! His ultimately evil schemes! That poop-head just…came out of nowhere, zipping through Mobius like _he_ owned it, out-witted every single one of his ultimately evil robotic minions, and had the nerve to barge right into his glorious and evil domain and insult him. Dr. Robuttnik? _Dr. Robuttnik?!_ How dare he! It's Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-obtonik!

The mad doctor was very sensitive about his weight, especially his butt. After that horrendous encounter, every night he would slither under his blankets and pillows, and weep into his mustache. Oh, the sorrows! What could he do about his enormous butt?! Why couldn't anyone accept the fact that he had just a small, glandular problem? (He all ways reassured himself by bulldozing spoonful after spoonful of lard into his mouth.)

Hurt, dejected, and insulted, Dr. Robotnik formulated another "evil genius" scheme – only to be crushed by Sonic, once again. And again. And again…AND AGAIN!

Dr. Robotnik would cry and beat the ground in frustration, eat his computers, hammer his minions out the window...no matter what "evil genius" recipe he had cooked up in his beautiful, intelligent mind, that…that hedgehog would squash his plans like an irking mosquito. ARGH!

Then one day, Sonic received an invitation to the Super Smash Bros. league, where some of the most respected, courageous, heroic, and understanding beings from all the universes concentrate into one, giant mansion and duke it out, determining who brought their A-game and who crapped theirs down the toilet. As far as Dr. Robotnik knew, the Super Smash Bros. was welcomed by all, and the business flourished faster than a field of weeds. It was the point where all the universes intersected, a feat that had only existed in their dreams. And now, people of all races could join hands and celebrate the beauty and tranquility of one another, trading goods and creating businesses that boomed their economies, lavished their worlds with warming families, and ended the long-term evil of war once and for all.

Yes, sure, this is all great, whatever. But, it's all lies. LIES! Why, you may ask?...

BECAUSE DR. IVO R-R-R-R-R-R-R-R-OBOTNIK WAS NOT INVITED!

There was absolutely no excuse. His persona reeked of respect, courage, heroism, and comprehension of others – why did they choose to ignore him? How could such a place ring with such brilliance and augment to such a powerhouse when he, Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-r-obotnik, was not there to make it that way? Rubbish!

Those quacks needed to be roboticized. Or at least have this simple equation drilled in their senseless minds: 'Super Smash Bros. + Dr. Ivo Robotnik = Success!'. That equation cannot possibly work without the key ingredient – Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-r-obtonik!

Then he learned that on every Sunday, tryouts were being held for those who thought they possessed the potential to be a member of the Super Smash Bros. league. Of course, Dr. Robotnik heaved up his chest with two hands, groomed his mustache, changed into his red-and-black jumpsuit, and sucked in his butt. How could they not induct him into the tournament? Why, just one look at him would have those quacks on their knees, pulling at his legs, begging him to join them, please join them, they would not be a success without your "evil genius", Dr. Robotnik.

That's, at least, what was supposed to happen…

They ridiculed him, poked fun at his weight and butt and mustache. He felt like he was in a boiling cauldron, being steamed into a soup, the others hovering above him and sprinkling their ingredients of insults on him. This was not the way it was supposed to be! They actually forced him to complete the obstacles and the challenges! Why did he have to do it? He was too intelligent for such petty games. And not only that, he had accomplished each and every one perfectly! And still, they rejected him!

(Actually, Dr. Robotnik did horrible. His jumping distance was a measly two centimeters, his agility and speed were as flabby as his butt, he could not fit through the man-sized doors, his only special move consisted of him rolling around on the ground like an egg, he could not control his temper and insulted everyone's religion, race, and family – when no one insulted him from the start. Overall, he was too unsportman-like, trying to cheat as much as possible. Like the one time, when he had to race through an obstacle course in two minutes; instead of running through it, he ran around, bypassing it entirely, to the finish line in five seconds, pumping his fists in the air and exclaiming to the heavens that he was the great Dr. Ivo Robotnik.)

Stupid gloved hands. Stupid doctor. No fair.

They will rue the day when they insulted Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-obotnik! Those hands think they're sooooooo cool. Oh, and that doctor? Phl! He's nothing…says he nearly invented a cure for every known disease. Who would want to respect someone like that, _helping_ other people? That doctor will fall to his evil hands first…

Dejected from both his attempts on ruling the world and his rejection from the Smash league, Dr. Robotnik returned to his lair, sulking in his bedroom, weeping about his butt and eating tubs of ice cream. This continued for days, tub after tub of ice cream…

Until one day, he received a strange call.

"Yes, I am Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-r-obtonik!" he repeated, the receiver now soaked from his phlegm and saliva.

*****

"Who do you think he's talking to, Scratch?"

"Sh! Grounder, I can't hear with you flapping your nuts and bolts!"

Scratch donked Grounder on the head and turned back to peer around the doorframe. Who could Dr. Robotnik be conversing with on the phone? Only _very_ special calls were picked up in the bedroom. Hmm…

Scratch and Grounder were Dr. Robotnik's minions, intentionally designed to be the perfect robots. Scratch was a tall, gray humanoid chicken, while Grounder resembled a small green tank, with conveyor belt-like wheels for legs, drills for hands and nose, and a dome-like head. Appearance-wise, they were mighty and dangerous, possessing gadgets and gizmos of all degrees. But…well, let's just say that a few screws were loose in their heads…

But the two at least had the sense to know that only very important people called Dr. Robotnik in his bedroom. And to not interrupt him when he was busy.

"And just, who ar-r-re you?" he taunted to the phone.

Pause*.

"What?!! You?! The gr-r-r-r-r-r-eatest?! Impossible!"

He screeched into the phone and jammed it back to his ear, his reddened face bulging with anger.

Pause*.

"Enough of this nonsense. What is the –" Pause*. "Oh. You have a plan to take over the world? At the Smash Mansion? And you want my help?"

As he said this, his mustache curled up into a smirk, his voice beaming with pride.

Pause*.

"Good. Very good. Ha ha ha! That's genius. Evilly genius!"

The egg-shaped man squealed like a little girl, licking his lips and patting his stomach. One would have guessed that he had just finished a large Thanksgiving dinner.

Pause*.

"And Sonic?! Would we get him too?" Short pause*. "Excellent! Excellent! What do you call this…"

Pause*.

Confusion splatted on Robotnik's face. He held the phone down to his side, looked at it like he had never seen a phone before, scratched his head, and returned it to his ear.

"The Army of Darkness? Hm…Not bad…Not bad at all…"

Pause*.

"Who doesn't want r-r-r-r-revenge on that dr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-readful place? You know something is amiss when two gr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-reat individuals like our-r-r-r-rselves are tr-r-r-reated as scum."

What? Since when did Dr. Robotnik ever consider someone else as an equal? Has all the fat from his butt travelled to his brain?

Still looking at the doctor, Scratch lowered down to Grounder, "Who on Mobius do you think he's talking to?"

Grounder tapped a drill to his head, eyes glazed over in thought.

"The pizza guy?"

"No, you imbecile. Why would he be making evil plans with the pizza guy?"

"Well, Robotnik loves to eat."

It was Scratch's turn to tap a finger to his head. "Yea…that does make sense…"

"Scr-r-r-r-ratch! Gr-r-r-r-r-r-ounder! I command you to enter my bedroom!"

The doctor's words scorched through the walls, embodying the robots in a wall of flame. Uh oh…they've been spotted…

Whenever Scratch and Grounder screwed up one of Dr. Robotnik's evil plans (and that was every time), the doctor rewarded them for their work. Like, verbal abuse. Or a wrench to the face. Or he'd sit on them and wriggle his butt on them, grinding them into nothing but pulp.

But when Scratch and Grounder entered the room, they were greeted by a sneering egg.

"I just got off the phone with a very important person. A person that may be all most as great as I am." He tweaked his mustache as he said this, and then continued, "I have just formulated a new evil plan to take over not just Mobius, but all the universes! Ha ha!"

He pointed at them. "I need you to make some important calls for me. And you can't screw this one up, or you're really going to feel the wrath of my butt!"

Scratch and Grounder gulped. The chicken saluted him and asked, "Uh, you're Putridness. Who should we be calling?"

The mad doctor handed him a small slip of paper. "Call these numbers. Tell them that I, Dr. Ivo R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-obotnik, have formulated an evil plan, that I want them to join the "Army of Darkness", and…"

Scratched and Grounder nodded after every sentence, his words computing into their brain chips. When he was finished spluttering his story, Grounder poked a drill in the air.

"Uh…how many r's are in your name, your fatness?"

"Gr! Just get out of here!"

*****

"Yes, of course. I would be honored to slice their throats open with my sword. Tell the doctor I'm with him."

*****

"_Mmm…Yes…perfect. I will twist their neck, crack their skulls…I shall join. Tell the doctor he has the authority to direct my powers."_

*****

"Oh boy! I'm so excited! I've all ways wanted to take over the Mansion! None of the kids wanted to play with me! This will be so cool! Tell the doctor I'm with him! Yah!"

*****

"Pichu!"

*****

Scratch and Grounder rushed back into the bedroom, the doctor sitting on his bed eating a delicious tub of Robotnik-flavored ice cream.

"Scratch reporting, sir. Phone numbers called. All accept your invitation, sir."

Dr. Robotnik slurped up the last of the ice cream and chucked it over his shoulder. He lifted his evil hands to his evilly sneering face, and tapped his evil fingers together…evilly.

"Ah, yes. Everything is going according to plan." He stood up from the bed and gestured the robots to follow him.

" Come Scr-r-r-r-r-atch! Come Gr-r-r-r-r-rounder! We must go to the Smash Mansion."

**As I said before, if you paid attention to the story thus far, you should have an idea who the mystery caller was. And if you know, keep it to yourself so other people can try. And what about Mario's mystery guest? And Luigi's destiny? And whatever happened to Wario? And Peach vs. Kirby? It'll all come together…**


	22. You Are Not a Dog!

Okay, okay. _This time_, she had him.

The little pink ball couldn't escape. Peach had the little bugger trapped in a corner. He cringed into a ball, trying to press his quivering body against the wall as much as he could, and poked an eye out over his stubby arms.

Peach pretended to hit him with the frying pan, and he squeaked a cry, flattening himself like a pancake against the wall.

_Ooo…my Mario-poo will want to love me again! Sure, my perfectest cake was devoured, but now I have the culprit…maybe…why, yes…Of course! I am the most beautiful, most precious, most intelligent, most adored girl in all the universes! I can create a whole new dish – I don't need a cake. I could create…mmm…deep-fried Kirby gumbo. Oh, my Mario will all ways love me! He'll take one bite of my perfect Kirby gumbo, and he'll say –_

Kirby pointed to something behind Peach.

Peach's thought bubble poofed away. She shoved her hands onto her hips, sighing, "What?"

He hopped up and down, repeatedly pointing to something behind her.

The princess brushed her fingertips against her mouth, a slight gasp slinking between her fingers.

What if someone was sneaking up behind her? What if she ignored some people who had just passed by and commented on how beautiful she was? What if there was a big, globby snake, with three giant eyeballs, and hooks for arms, slithering up her back, into her hair…_and messed it up!_

Peached turned around, whipping her frying pan around with her eyes closed, hoping to connect with the evil, vicious, ugly beast that wanted to mess her hair.

SWISH* SWISH* SWISH* SWISH*

Hmm…

Peach opened her eyes, expecting something to lunge at her, rip her face off, tease her about her weight…but, no.

There was nothing behind her!

She stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest, absentmindedly tapping the frying pan against her hip.

How rude! Doesn't that little turd know it's not polite to pretend that something is behind a princess? That's all a princess needs…more stress! And more stress causes wrinkles! Ew! Isn't it exacerbating enough living the life of a truly marvelous woman?

She turned back to Kirby, and shook a pointed finger at him, scolding, "Young man, you have horrible manners. It's not nice to make fun of a princess." She finished the sentence with a sexy batting of her eyelashes.

The pink ball sat there, expressionless. His arm fell off. Then his button eye. Then some of the stitching around the midsection cracked open, the beans inside gushing out onto the floor.

_Aww…I hope I wasn't too harsh. Look, he can't keep himself together…hey, wait a minute!_

Peach tip-toed over to Kirby, scratching her chin. She slunk down to her knees and crawled closer to the little puffball.

She stopped with her face inches from his, and pulled a magnifying glass out from behind her. The princess punched him, bit him, tore apart all the stitching in his body until there was nothing left but shreds of pink, cotton, and beans. Interesting…

Still on all fours, she scratched her chin, a perplexed look indicating her thoughts.

One minute passed. Two minutes passed. Three minutes passed.

Yes, she knew it. Something was amiss…

*****

Kirby practiced his golf swing with his rather large mallet, the ball represented by Peach's rather large behind.

Hm. Kirby should have spent more time at the driving range; his posture was a bit stiff. Oh well, what can you do?

The little ball's tongue wormed out, studying his target. He formed an imaginary frame around it with his stubby arms. Hm. Fairly immense target. Shouldn't be too hard to miss.

After several practice swings, he spit into his hands. Rubbed them together. Grabbed the handle. Heaved up the mallet. Prepared to swing…

SPLAT!* CRUNCH*!

Splat? Ew…

Kirby dropped the mallet and ran through the open door to the right, which led directly into the small kitchen.

*****

Peach grasped her frying pan and, using it like a crowbar, pried her face from the wall.

What had happened? The last thing she remembered was that something rammed into her tush, resulting in a splat*, and then the force of the blow propelled her right into the wall, resulting in a crunch*. Wow, she left a face print in the wall! Oh, such a beautiful, perfect face print in the wall…It could only be her!

She rubbed her butt and started to scan the hallway, when a pink gust whooshed by her right.

Kirby!

_That's it! That's it! No more jokes, no more charades, no more…eh, stupid things! I'm going to capture that hunk of crap, stick my arm into its mouth, pull out its intestines, and strangle the bastard with them. Then I'm going to rape him until he pops like a balloon. After that, I'll squash his little body into pulp, chuck him in the oven, bake him to a crispy chew, then I'll devour him with…with my nose!!! _

Peach chomped down on her frying pan and thrashed her head about. She threw it down with her teeth and let it fall to the ground, shattering into tiny fragments.

_Screw the frying pan. I want him with my teeth!_

She stampeded after him, splintering through a table and bashing the door off its hinges with her head. She continued after him, head extending forward and arms splayed out behind her, a deafening tyrannosaurus-like roar erupting from her mouth.

Kirby hopped through the dog door, escaping to the outside. Peach kicked the door open and proceeded to run out the door, only to be tripped by Kirby, who had stuck a foot out while hidden against the wall next to the door.

The princess twisted in circles, her arms flailing about. In the process, she accidentally struck the door with her arm, blasting it close. She fell over, greeting the pavement with her beautiful face.

But adrenaline pumped through her veins, her brain melting to mush. Unfazed by the pain, she instinctively flung her upper body behind her, toward Kirby's location.

Kirby, taken by surprise, clammed up. Peach thundered up the two steps, slashing at the air, but at the last second, Kirby ducked. A piece of the wall chipped off and bounced down the steps.

Fear clouded Kirby's mind. Instead of running away to the fields in the backyard, he darted back through the dog door, the princess breathing down his back.

_No! He's not getting away! NEVER!_

Peach followed suit and dove through the dog door. She squeezed her arms, head, and shoulders through. Her chest bunched up in the hole, but she pushed off her legs and thrashed forward, popping free through the hole. Her momentum carried her, landing right…on top…of…Kirby…

She squeezed her hands together, the pink gelatinous body puffing through her fingers.

"AH HA HA HA HA! I"VE GOT YOU!"

He squealed. She squealed.

She sprouted fangs, blood trickling down her lips. Her eyes sparkled with death, the creases around her eyes drooling with tears and blood. The veins in her arms tightened, pulsating with a sickly, yellow color. The room suddenly dimmed, a crimson color shadowing the background. Then the monster pulled the sweet puffball closer to her. She opened her mouth wider, cricking and cracking at the joints. And he was pulled closer, and closer, and closer…

"Now, don't you ever do that again. You hurt my feelings, little guy. How would you like it if someone stole your cake, huh? No, you wouldn't like it. Show respect to people, and you'll be treated with equal respect."

Peach lifted two fingers and bonked him on the head. She released her grip and scolded him with a pointed finger.

"I wish it didn't have to come to that."

Kirby, confused at first because of her less-than-a-second mood swing, smiled and waved to her.

Peach presented her trademark perfect smile and perfect giggle. She pretended to be bashful and waved him off.

"Can we still be friends, Kirby?"

He sprung forth onto her face like his butt was on fire, and swallowed her in a hug.

"M tafke maft mas a mes."

Kirby plopped to the ground and smiled to her. He rolled around on the floor, cooing out "oh" and "poyo".

"Ah, Kirby you're so sweet! I can't stay mad at you! Aww…"

"Poyo!"

"C'mon, let's go bake a cake together! But remember, you can't eat it this time, all right? Hee hee." She started backing out of the dog door. "Now, I'll just get out of here – "

She didn't move.

Kirby only stared.

She attempted to back out again.

She still didn't move.

Kirby still only stared.

Brow furrowed, eyes worried, Peach crawled forward.

Only to be met with the same result. Again.

Kirby continued to stare. Again.

Fear caked Peach. She squirmed to look behind her, and yelped.

Her hips and butt had plugged the dog door.

Even the most beautiful, most intelligent, most perfectest person has her problems. Her beauty was not only a gift, but a curse. You see, men keel over, foaming at the mouth and writhing on the ground, whenever she passes by. She has a very curvaceous body – a body which every man desires. It's won her the trust from her people, it's swooned the most perfect man, it's made her the most beautiful person ever…

And now, she's stuck in a dog door. Stuck. Again. Because of you, you stupid sexy body.

Kirby only stared.

She pushed off the door, hoping to pop out. Then she can laugh about it. Go clean herself up. Prepare another perfect dessert. And enjoy a warm, enveloping evening with her best friend Luigi and her perfect ookie-pookie Mario.

Hm…

Only ended up with sore arms. Not close enough.

Oh no! What if someone found her like this! Oh, she would never hear the end of it! Princess Peach, ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, so smart that she got stuck in a dog door! Oh, people by the millions would walk by, her exposed backside displayed like a museum exhibit, and they would point and laugh at her. Laugh! And Mario would be there! And Luigi would be there! And…OH NO! Wario would be there, probably licking his lips and patting his butt! NOOOO!!!! Her butt will be famous for the wrong reasons!

At least the kitchen doors were locked tight. No one could waltz in here and embarrass any more. But she could starve! And wither away! Oh no!

Outside, her butt wiggled madly, a few inches too rounded for the hole.

"Nrrggh…heerrm…rrrkk…kir…Kirby! Come here! Please, help me!"

Kirby, his interest in her dissipated, poked at his feet. He looked like he was poking at a dead animal with a stick, checking to see if it was still alive or not.

He looked up at her, smiled, waved, and walked away.

"Kirby!"

The little pink ball waddled over to the refrigerator. He puffed himself up and floated up to the door handle. While still in the air, he grabbed the handle and strained to pull it open. He landed on the middle shelf in the refrigerator, where he heaved a blueberry pie over his head. Then he opened his mouth to accommodate the size of the pie, and tossed it into his maw. He patted his tummy and waved to Peach.

She ceased struggling and collapsed, the adrenaline all but flushed out. She crossed her arms in front of her and rested her chin on them.

"Ugh…I hope no one finds me like this."

Unfortunately, she had no idea how right she was…

**The last Smasher up next!**

**I feel a little perverted after writing this chapter, but there was no other situation to put her in, because the ending wouldn't make sense. You'll see…**


	23. Sticks and Stones Will Break My Bones

**I'm not familiar with the series this character is from. I researched as hard as I could then, and as hard as I could now. If any fans feel angered, I'm sorry.**

"_Cry, baby, cry, stick a finger in your eye."_

_His classmates branded him with this phrase. Everywhere and anywhere, their hyena-like laughs and their cryptic gossip and their demonic eyes and their wretched pointing fingers – haunting, suffocating, _killing _him. They chucked apples at his head when the teachers weren't looking; sometimes teachers even encouraged their students to throw the apples. No one wanted to hear his opinions, witness him succeed, see him enjoy life. Nope. They wanted to abuse him, to cry himself in a little corner from the rest of the world and die, because people like _him_ plague their way of life._

_Just because he was different._

_Since he was a little, he was acknowledged as… "gifted". Yes, he was an intelligent boy, but he was "gifted" in another "awkward" sort of way._

_Doors slam shut, like some pissed-off invisible hands punched it. Birds abruptly drop, lifeless eyes glazed in fear. Mechanical objects have a mind of their own, refusing to obey the on-off switch. Small fires erupt from out of the blue, eating anything in their paths. Books flip their own pages, annoyed by little grummy fingers dirtying their words. People get hurt, the invisible hand twisting ankles and splintering wrists. Happiness drains away, like some wizard walks in, casts a magic spell, and sucks all the good feeling into a tiny brown bag._

_You could say he was a bad luck charm._

_But why? It's not like he wanted these strange things to occur. For some reason, wherever he was, something bizarre was bound to happen. What could he do about it? He had no control._

_Unfortunately, everyone disagreed. Men, women and children of all ages accused him of practicing witchcraft, of worshipping the black arts. They strayed away from him like a black cat, mashing themselves against walls, looking ridiculous like they could actually sink through the wall. Though, they wouldn't let him leave without adding their syringe of words._

_Their words at least felt like syringes; he could feel their insults stabbing away at his blood cells and internal organs. Pain; that's all he ever felt. His blood reeked of it. His breath. His life._

_A social outcast, nearly exiled from the outside world, he dug deep into the sorrows of his bed. And there, he cried. And cried. And cried some more. Until his eyes dried out lie sandpaper, his hands raw from rubbing them constantly. Here was his world, the only world where nothing could harass him and drive him to the brink of suicide._

_Yes, the outside world hated him, but inside the walls of his home; that's a different story…_

_He was positive that there were only three people in the world who treated him as a human being, cared for him, loved him for who he was._

_Father. Mother. Brother._

_His parents enveloped them in their love and sealed the packet shut. His "awkward gifts" meant nothing – they weren't going to return the package because of a simple flaw. They were aware of the darkness that jeered at their son, and protected him as best they could with an impassible wall. And sometimes, it worked. And he felt safe within their arms, laughing and giggling with them._

_But his brother…there was something in his brother that neither his father or mother possessed._

_The twinkle…the twinkle in his eyes._

_His depression, suicidal thoughts, pain; just melted off like the wax of a burning candle. An omnipotent presence radiates off his brother, and soaked into him, soothing his wearisome soul. He was the light bulb of the darkened room, pointing to the direction of the exit. And when he looked into the eyes of his brother, he didn't see a cry-baby, he saw himself…smile._

_His brother was his only friend; and they did everything together. You couldn't separate the two with a chainsaw. How could such a boy, imprinted as the bastard child of society, forget about the worries digging into his shoulders and just…play?_

_He couldn't find an answer to that one. But he knew one thing._

_That his brother loved him, and he loved him back. _

_And one day, his brother walked in on him while he was crying, stormed over to him, raised his chin to meet his eyes, and told him, "I feel your pain. It flows within my veins. But like me, you can control it someday. And when evil flashes its gnarled teeth, I'll be by your side to smack the sneer off its face."_

_It's hard to keep promises. You should know that…_

_He broke it that one night. The night when the pigs visited._

_SNORT* SNORT* SNORT*_

_Huh? Whazzat?_

_SNORT* SNORT* SNORT*_

_He rubbed his eyes, waiting for the fuzzy lighted dots to disappear. The clock read 3:03 a.m._

_His brother's bed was empty. Probably couldn't sleep. Must have gone downstairs to watch some television. He better turn the volume down, or he'll wake mom._

_A yawn groaned from his throat, and he tried to stifle it with a fist. He hopped out of bed and walked over to the door. He grabbed the doorknob…_

_A woman's scream._

_He halted, caught off guard. Wow, his mom must have really flipped out on his brother. But, that's so unlike her…_

_She screamed again. But it was cut off. Something like a blade swooshed right outside his door, then an object thudded to the ground._

_Oh no…_

_SNORT* HA! SNORT* HA! SNORT* HA!_

_His mother…one of the few treasures in this crudful world. A treasure worth beyond the millions, the billions, the trillions. A treasure he kept to himself. A treasure of love – one of the rarest kind._

_Taken from him. Just like that._

_He wrapped himself in his arms, tears gushing out like waterfalls. Where was his brother? Did those bad guys out there k…k…get him too? The commotion must have also startled his brother awake, and being the more courageous and daring of the two, snuck out to investigate. Only, he hasn't come back._

_The thought of his brother dead pushed the tears out even more. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and began to chew on them._

_His brother…the axis of his world. The bulb of his darkened room. The sauna for his troubled soul. The mirror for his smile._

_His world stopped turning. He could not find the exit with the light burnt. His soul trembled in the cold. His smile – he would never smile again. Oh, those twinkling eyes… _

_The little world that he lived in was suddenly hurtling toward the sun. His mother dead. His brother probably with the same fate. And his father out of town, unable to help. The fuzzy white lights returned to his eyes and seemed to fuzzy-up his brain. Nothing made sense anymore…Wha?...._

_SNORT* SNORT* SNORT*_

_Footsteps stomped down the hallway. Coming closer._

_The door jumped. More snorting. The door jumped again, a crack seaming through the middle of it._

_There was enough sense in him to realize that someone, or something, was trying to rip its way into the bedroom. He collapsed to his hands and knees and crawled toward his bed, squirming under the little opening._

_Right as his leg wormed under, the door splintered apart. He could see footsteps stomping around the room, the legs pinkish and…wait, hoofed feet? And that snorting…the erratic snorting, sounding like crazed laughter, penetrated deep into his mind, sending goosebumps in every nook and cranny of his spine._

_He buried his face into his arms, attempting to block out the pig noises, but they only amplified. Dozens of them._

_SNORT* SNORT* SNORT*_

_His world hurtled faster toward the sun. And faster. Oh, too hot._

_SNORT* SNORT* SNORT!!!!*_

_Burning, dying, oh…so hot…_

*****

One rock. Two rock.

_All right. Keep it going._

Three rock. Four rock.

_Whoa! All most fell in that time!_

Four rock. Five rock. Six rock.

_Nrgh…Yes I made – Gah! Didn't see that tree there…_

He had crossed the river, hopping over every single rock. But, he hadn't really been paying attention to what lay at the end…

Lucas cradled his crotch and collapsed, cursing Mother Nature under painful spurts of breath.

With such a sunny day, who couldn't pass on the opportunity to explore the woods surrounding the Smash Mansion? The excitement, the thrills, never expecting what hideous creature you'll meet around the corner. Kinda wished he could do this every day.

He shouldn't stay out here much longer, though. It's all most time for the picnic, and he promised the others that he'd meet them along the way to their "super awesome sweet spot".

Mother Nature had other thoughts. A kick to the balls.

He felt around for his walking stick and hoisted himself up to his feet, grimacing as his stomach started to churn. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply. Slowly, exhale. Slowly, inhale. Repeat. One minute. Two minutes.

_Okay, much better. What else you got, Mother Nature? Ha ha!_

Lucas humbled down the leafy pathway, kicking the fallen red, brown, orange, and yellow leaves out of his way. He tapped his stick on the ground as he walked along.

"Hey! Batter up!"

Lucas stopped, still tapping his stick on the ground. He knew that voice…

Not turning around, he called back, "What's the score?"

"Bottom of the ninth. Bases loaded. Two outs. Tied at 3. Two strikes."

Lucas grinned and kicked back his legs, leaves fluttering away in all directions. He turned around and held his stick like a baseball bat.

Luigi's eyes crooked over his closed fists, a rock concealed in them. He lowered his hands, preparing to pitch.

Lucas took a few practice swings and batted the ground. He taunted at Luigi, sticking his tongue out and tapping his butt with the stick.

The plumber narrowed his eyes and crouched slightly. He shifted his gaze to the left. He shifted his gaze to the right. He lowered the brim of his hat and tweaked his mustache. He threw the rock…

ZOOM!*

THWACK!*

The rock zipped past Luigi's head, zooming far down the pathway. Lucas hurled his stick in the air and performed his victory dance.

_Oh my gosh! Connection! That ball is flying out of here! Right over to the next zip code! He's done it! Lucas had won the game! The audience cheers as he runs to the base, blowing kisses to the opposite team! All hail victory! Lucas –_

"Get back here, Pikachu, so I can eat you for lunch!"

Lucas and Luigi turned to the side to see some bushes rustling. Out scurried the little electric pokemon, speeding enough for the police to pull him over and give him a ticket. Samus jumped out after him…or at least it looked like Samus. Why was she dressed like a girl? Wait, isn't she a girl? Hm…

Samus cried out, "Pikachu, that's the last time I get knocked around! If I get hurt because of you one more time, I swear I'll – "

Uh-oh. That rock is zooming right toward Samus. But she was too focused on trying to catch Pikachu. She should duck or something…

Luigi waved his arms in the air and called out to Samus, "Hey, Samus! Watch out for that rock!"

A furious Samus skidded to a stop, turning toward their direction with her hands on her hips.

"What –"

POW!*

The rock pelted the bounty huntress directly above the bridge of her nose. Her eyes crossed over and she fumbled around on her feet, her arms flailing, on the verge of falling over.

Pikachu had also discontinued running upon hearing Luigi call out to Samus. He turned around just in time to see the rock nail Samus in the head. The little pokemon keeled over in laughter.

Unfortunately, Pikachu was too occupied in his laughter to notice that Samus had tripped over herself and was falling face-first – landing right on Pikachu, squashing the overzealous pokemon.

"Timber!"

Luigi and Lucas focused their attention to Falco, whose head peered over the bushes that Samus and Pikachu popped out from. He chopped a path through the brush and walked over to Samus, hands deep in his jeans pockets.

Pikachu shrieked out its name and struggled to wriggle out from under the blond. The bird pilot closed his eyes and shook his head, muttering a tsk* tsk*.

"That pokemon had it coming."

He noticed Luigi and Lucas quivering and chewing on their fingers. He waved to them.

"So, we gonna have that picnic or what?"


	24. Psychic Boy Meets Plumber

_Why live? Why?!_

_Lucas slumbered within the catacombs of his bedroom, a wet rag molding in the darkness. He had lost the will to live. Though his father wasn't nearly as drenched in the depression as Lucas was, he tried to cheer the boy up, to rev his engine and get him going. But his words might as well have bounced off a wall; the boy only pushed him away._

_Four months have wasted away since the death of his mother and the kidnapping of his brother. And for four months Lucas had wasted away._

_The Pig Men. Men and monsters garbed in pig costumes, wielding tridents, spears, and guns. On a mission to eradicate all those that oppose them, and a few random kills for pleasure. They had decapitated his mother and engulfed his poor brother into their greasy, grimy arms. His brother had been a threat. A major threat. To the one that they so honorably serve._

_Porky. The name drips like water from an icicle onto Lucas's mind, annoying him and annoying him. It just…wouldn't go away. That name would he carved into his thoughts for the rest of his life, erasing right over the memories, the good times, the fun of life with his mother, father, and brother._

_His brother…_

_The one person in the world that believed in him, that held his hand through the thickest of jungles, the darkest of rooms. An angel that watched over him in his tiny, heavenly world. Protecting him from the nasty sewage that lived in the outside world._

_But his world had come crashing down, forever lost in the biggest and darkest of black holes._

_That Porky…Lucas wanted more than anything to stick a knife through the…through the…actually, what was Porky? Was he a man who loved pigs? Was he a pig himself? What kind of creature could lead such an army of people dressed in pig suits, and where pigs can walk on their two back legs? It had to be something beyond evil, to take away his mother and brother like that. But so powerful, to lead such a huge army._

_Not knowing about the unknown ate away Lucas's brain. He wanted so much to have revenge…but he was just too scared. Of what may creep in the dark, he all alone.... Everyone was right, he was useless. He would never be able to avenge his family. Lost forever in the dark…_

_What could possibly pull him out of the darkness and show him the light?_

_Well, along comes the Super Smash Bros. invitation. Lucas wanted no part of it, but after some encouraging, yet depressive, words from his father, the boy reluctantly agreed to go._

_He might as well have just killed himself._

_It's been a week into the tournament, and all ready he's labeled as an outcast. Nobody would accept him into their group. The just poked at his large head and threatened him with bludgeon objects._

_Why didn't the pig men kidnap him too? Did he not share the same "awkward gifts" as his brother? Maybe they did not see him as a threat. And rightly so. His brother masterfully controlled his gifts and tried to teach Lucas a bit as well. Over time, Lucas could also control his gifts, though not as well._

_But what good is it when you're so scared and useless? That's probably why the pig men didn't take him away – he wasn't a threat. What kind of creature was this Porky, stealing his brother from the middle of the night?_

_His brother…_

_Only his brother could grab his hand and fight with him to the end. No one could ever hold a presence like he did. Never._

_Wrong, Lucas, my boy._

_Someone would take his hand and lead through the darkness to the door. A door, where the happiness and the tranquility lies within. And this someone would lead him through the door…and never let go. He would be his angel and guide him – guide him to the outside world, to stand like a brick wall against the creepy-crawly evils, to love him for who he was._

_But first, he had to bypass the Fatty and Skinny._

_That day had been like any other. After a bunch of Smashers had cornered him and stole his dinner, Lucas had run away with tears streaming down his eyes, wondering if it would be best to join his mother…_

_His destination was his room. Unfortunately, the weeping boy was too involved in his depressive thoughts to notice his surroundings. Especially when he turned the corner to the hallway where his room was located._

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

_Lucas sojourned in place, his thoughts interrupted by a horrible, gurgling bellow._

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

_The boy jumped behind the corner he had passed. He peered behind it, his knees banging together._

_Whatever it was, it sounded inhuman. Like a booger trying to sing the opera. He could have sworn he heard something slimy crawl along the floor. And that stench…Lucas was crying tears, but now he felt like crying out blood. Bleh! So incredibly overwhelming – an invisible wall closing around him, slowly suffocating him._

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

_Lucas wanted to run away, hoping never to meet the monstrosity which made that voice. But he was too scared to moved, nailed to the ground._

_Then it appeared from out the shadows._

_Lucas never saw such a sweaty, obese, grimy, greasy, and deranged creature. It wore tight purple overalls and yellow shirt, the seams near bursting. Sweat drooled down the beast, leaving a trail of smelly black puddles. A yellow hat capped its head, and its face looked like a Mr. Potato Head; none of its features made sense. A zig-zagging line of hair writhed on its upper lip, wiggling up and down. The creature could barely hobble down the hall due to its immense girth – its face reddened from the effort._

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

_The creature hobbled about, pausing at each of the doors. It would glare at the door and bellow to it how great it was, then hobble to the next one, its face beaming with pride._

_Lucas couldn't stay where he was. What if it found him? It might decide to devour him. He'd run, but it'd slither after him, its serrated teeth chomping at his feet. Laughing, cackling, yearning for blood…_

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

_Sure , Lucas wanted to die; but not in the most sweaty, obese, grimy, greasy, and deranged way._

_Lucas sprinted down the hall, leaving the monster to enjoy its absurd yelling. But that stench followed him, sucked on to his skin like a million leeches. It felt contaminated. Not even a shower could clean him of this foul encounter. Might have to use hydrochloric acid…_

"_I am the Great Waluigi!"_

_Lucas neared the end of the hallway, but stopped short of the corner. He pressed his back to the wall, the fear in him ready to explode._

"_I am the Great Waluigi!"_

_A banshee-like screech echoed the darkened hallway. It, too, sounded inhuman. But worse…much worse than that gelatinous mound of sweat._

_Lucas could hear its footsteps thundering down the hallway. His senses jumbled up from fear, he took a quick peek – only to wish he had never been born with eyes._

_This creature appeared similar to the other one, but there were still some differences. For one thing, this one was much taller, unnaturally rail-thin. His attire consisted of a purple shirt and black overalls, but no stains or sweat decorated it. And its head was warmed by a purple hat, with its face much cleaner and somewhat normal looking than the other beast. The mustache worming on its upper lip curled with life, its edges pointy enough to stab someone's eye out. But unlike the other monstrosity, where it looked content with itself, this one looked ready to break something. _

"_I am the Great Waluigi!"_

_The monster would stomp down the hall and pause at a door. It threatened the door with a dangerous glare, yelled at it how great it was, then stomped over to the next door._

_Lucas whipped his head back against the wall. His breath stuttered, and the poor boy began to hyperventilate._

_If that creature found him, it might chase after him, sneering behind him to suck his blood, drain him of his pure, innocent soul…_

_Lucas couldn't stay here either._

_He sprinted from the wall to back the way he came, but skidded to a stop, nearly tripping over himself._

_Trapped. Caged. Doomed. Nowhere to go. He could hear those awful sounds on either side of him. _

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

"_I am the Great Waluigi!"_

_He plopped down on his butt and shimmied to the wall. He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head between his legs. To die was what Lucas wanted, and this is what he wished for, albeit a gruesome and unimaginable way._

Forgive me, my brother…I have failed you…

_Something creaked next to Lucas._

_He cringed away, expecting one of those things to attack him. When he didn't feel his head being torn off his neck, he poked an eye out through his knees._

_It was only a door. Which had mysteriously creaked open._

_Doesn't matter. He would have even been happy to see Vin Diesel. But an open door meant a place to hide._

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

"_I am the Great Waluigi!"_

_Oh no! All three were now in the same hallway. Time to sca-doodle! _

_Lucas gently opened the door and tip-toed in sideway. He slowly latched the door closed, praying to the heavens that those monster didn't possess keen hearing._

_The room was dark; Lucas couldn't see his hand in front of his face. Again, doesn't matter. For some reason, the monsters only yell at the doors and never open them. They must have had very bad experiences with doors or something…_

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

"_I am the Great Waluigi!"_

_The voices were muffled, but nevertheless audible. And coming closer. Goodness, what if those two meet face to face? He didn't want to think about it._

_The psychic boy plopped down on his butt, scooted to the door, and wrapped himself up again, just like he had done out in the hallway. Seconds trudged along like hours. The air grew stale, a scent of garlic lingering within it. And those two things were coming closer…_

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

"_I am the Great Waluigi!"_

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

"_I am the Great Waluigi!"_

"_I am the Great Wario!"_

"_I am the Great – What? What are you doing here?!"_

_Lucas stopped breathing. Pray, just pray…_

"_Argh! I am the Great Wario! I must bellow my greatness to my servants!"_

"_What?!!! That's insane! I am the greatest! I must bellow my greatness to my servants!"_

"_Oh?! You're servants, eh?! How dare you insult the Great Wario! You think you're greater than I?"_

"_I created this world! I am the God of everything! Why, you breathe in my air! I want it back now!"_

_Shuffling outside. Then a wet, horn-like sound._

"_Can't you just smell my greatness?! My people love me! They love to bask themselves in this stench!"_

"_That's preposterous! They run away from you and seek safety from me!"_

"_Ooo. Frisky, are we? You cannot defeat one that is the Great Wario!"_

"_Oh, I'm coming for you! I will build an army of darkness to rip your fat ass off! And then I'll make you wear it like a hat!"_

"_Oh yeah?! My people here will fight alongside me, and I'll tell them to do whatever I want! You can't stop me!"_

"_Why, I oughtta – "_

"_Shh. I smell someone nearby."_

_Lucas choked on his breath. They did possess inhuman senses! Why, the fat creature exclaimed to the other that he could smell him! Quick, he had to hide._

_Too late._

_He heard metal grinding and then the door peeled away from his back. Ah! The door had been torn off its hinges! He fell over on the floor, his upper body sticking out in the hallway._

_But he immediately whisked himself in a seating position and pressed himself against the wall, as far away from the ugly pieces of crap as possible._

_The two failed science experiments towered over the quivering boy, their eyes locked with a greedy hunger. The fat one sneered evilly, but the skinny one bared its canines._

_Fatty glubbed out, "Hey you, loyal minion! I have a question for you!" It paused to pick its nose. Fatty smiled at the treasure on its finger and shoved it down its mouth. After licking its lips, Fatty continued, "Of us two, who do you think is the Great One?"_

_What? Why were they asking him this? What did he ever do to deserve this?_

_Skinny suddenly sneered. It stuck a long arm down the front of his shirt, and pulled out a bob-omb. Lucas whimpered._

"_Yes…Who do you think is the greatest?"_

_Fatty dug down inside his pants, fishing for something near his butt. It, too, pulled out a bob-omb._

"_Oh…choose wisely…or pay the consequences…"_

_And then they cackled. _

_Lucas buried his face deep into his legs, bawling out his little heart. This is it. He was going to die. His brother would be ashamed of him. And the last thing he was going to hear was that cackling…vibrating in his eardrums, making his ears bleed, his soul bleed…_

_Silence._

_Oh, why did he all ways have to be scared? Why didn't he just grow the courage to use his gifts? But no, too sca – hey, wait a minute!_

_Silence. The deathly cackling had ceased._

_Lucas poked an eye out between his legs. The two creatures were now lying on the floor. Not moving. Geez, he was sure they were going to kill him. But they just fell asleep on the floor. Narcolepsy, perhaps?_

_When the boy raised his head, he saw why the monsters were on the floor._

_Standing before him were three beings. One of them was a blue humanoid falcon, wearing a beige jacket and leather pants. The second was a tiny yellow mouse-like creature, with a tail in the shape of a thunderbolt. The third was a human woman, blonde and garbed in a very tight blue suit._

_The three of them looked down at the two monsters with disgruntled looks. The bird had its arms crossed and the mouse shot tiny sparks from its cheeks. The woman spit on both creatures, kicking the fat one in the head. _

_While Lucas was drowning in his sorrows, these strangers had snuck up and knocked out Fatty and Skinny. But why? Why would anyone want to help him?_

"_Are you okay? Those two morons could have killed you. Thank goodness we came just in time. Hello there, my name is Luigi."_

_Lucas looked over to his right to see who had spoken to him._

_For a split second, he thought he saw his brother. Those twinkling eyes…_

_A new bulb had flared in the dark room, showing the path to the light. Here stood an angel, ready to take his hand and guide him to happiness and tranquility. Here was a man who would love him for who he was and encourage him to use his gifts. Lucas…had found his family…he was home again._

_Lucas jumped up, sprinted to the mustached man, and hugged him. Tight._

**All right, gals and guys. The climax is just around the corner. If you paid close attention to the story, especially to the conversation between Wario and Waluigi in this chapter, you might have an idea of what's going to happen…**

**(By the way, if you haven't notice, Wario and Waluigi seem to share similar schedules. Ha ha.)**

**Read and review if you likey!**


	25. Memories of High School

"_IF I AM!  
Another waste of everything you dreamed of,  
I will let you down...  
_

_IF I AM!  
Only here to watch you as you suffer,  
I will let you down..."_

9 Inch Nails, _If I Am_

"_Zoinks! Daisy, that all most ripped my head off!"_

"_Oh, Luigi, you calling me a guy?!"_

_Daisy shoved a hand on one hip, the other hand tapping the tennis racquet against her leg. She raised her eyebrows, a smirk lurking in the corner of her mouth._

_However, the young man had not seen it. He had focused his gaze on the ground, caressing a hand on the back of his neck._

"_Uh…anything I say won't get me out of this, will it?"_

"_Afraid not."_

_******_

_A beautiful, spring Saturday. Sunny and not a cloud in the sky. What better way to spend the day than playing tennis with your best friend?_

_Wait! Her best friend was Luigi of the Mario Bros.? So what?_

_Let her friends tease her behind her back; guess they wouldn't be considered "friends" then, eh? Let the other students bombard her with their peculiar eyes; don't they have anything better to stare at? Let her parents declare her a stupid girl for not falling for the Doctor's "perfect" son; Mario just wasn't her type!_

_Mario attained the status of the "perfect" student. Homecoming King. Graduated first in his class. A social butterfly. Most athletic. A hero to the community. What hasn't the guy done? For crying out loud, he couldn't walk from one destination to the other without being mobbed. They literally clung to his arms and legs, him struggling to drag the dead weight along. 'Please be my best friend, Mario!' – Phl!_

_But that doesn't mean she hated him! She just…she wasn't into that type of guy. Mario had to learn that the hard way…_

_Yes, you heard her! Mario had asked her to the prom, he a senior and she a sophomore. The whole school pinched their noses and cupped their mouths. Mario, one of the hunkiest and most revered guys, asked Daisy! It's a girl's dream come true! How could she not say 'no' to him?_

_Easy – "No thanks."_

_Everyone's response?: "What?! How could you say no?!", "What were you thinking?!", "You'll never get that chance again!". She let them vomit out their vile and chunky insults, but she just wiped their crap off her with a flick of the wrist. It's not the end of the world. She's a human being like everyone else, just with a different taste in guys. So shut up, dumb bitches!_

_Daisy had been known as a tomboy, able to win a fight against a guy with one arm tied behind her back, not afraid to get a bit of mud on herself. Basically, she was a tough bitch. So why had she fallen head over heels for the clumsy, lonesome, shy Luigi?_

_Those twinkling eyes…_

_Sure, he was clumsy, tripping over his feet every other step. Eh, he was rather lonesome, his nose constantly buried in strange books. He was definitely timid, afraid what people will think of him. He was the complete opposite of her. And he was like straw compared to his brother, the brick. But there was one thing that Luigi possessed that Mario didn't._

_Those twinkling eyes…they held an immense power…a gateway to an unfathomable future…_

_In those eyes she saw herself, Luigi's arms looped around her waist. His breath like an avalanche down her spine. His touch like the sizzling sun. The sky was blue, the grass was green – and those eyes were beautiful. Piercing into hers, choking the sins and evils that haunted her. And, oh yeah, such a lean, hard body…_

_Hee hee; She couldn't help it. Those eyes turned her into a bubbly school girl._

_Because of his shy nature around girls, Daisy knew she'd have to be the one to do some "poking", talk to him when he was alone. But she might as well as hit a punching bag; she'd punch a few compliments his way, but he'd just rebound back with nervous glances and fidgety fingers. He had no idea she was flirting with him. Probably wasn't used to having a beautiful, intelligent girl talking to him._

_Sigh…_

_The school still whipped her for rejecting Mario. They watched her every move, spreading gossip around like the black plague. So it was only a matter of time before they noticed her flirting with Mario's brother._

"_What? How could you?!"; "That little dweeb? How about digging around in me, babe?"; "How could you stab Mario in the back?!"; "What do you see in that weirdo?" – Once again the atmosphere stunk with snide remarks. And when the whole school knows, the _whole _school knows. But one person saw her actions in a different light._

_Mario had taken her aside to talk to her about Luigi. To her surprise, she wasn't greeted by anger, but with a smile. Said that he loved his brother dearly and wanted him to break out of his shell. Wanted to help and had an idea. He'd speak with Luigi and convince him to go to prom._

_Yeah, that's really going to work. Okay, thanks a lot. Go me._

_But Daisy could not guess how powerful the bond between brothers was. Though he doesn't directly express it, Luigi admires his brother. Stands on the sidelines and cheers for him. Respects him. Loves him. Would endanger his own life to save Mario's._

_So the next day at school, Daisy had to bite her tongue. Right at the end of the day, when the building pooped out its fill of students. She had stayed after school to work on a project, her mind locked on to her work, Luigi fizzling around in the back of her mind. Spelunking in her locker, she nearly toppled into it when someone thundered on her locker door._

_Head perking like a teapot, she flung her locker door closed. But when she saw Luigi standing there, her heart melted into mashed potatoes._

Mario. Wha – How – How did you do it?

_Luigi had grown balls. Here he was, standing before her. Though, he looked like he rather have his balls surgically removed than to be here. How could she tell? Call it a girl's tuition._

_He would not look at her, more interested in the dust rolling on the floor. His feet fidgeted and constantly shifted his weight- someone could have confused him for performing some bizarre rendition of an Irish jig. He twiddled his thumbs like he was playing a video game. Any second now he'd have a nervous breakdown - Daisy expected him to keel over and have a stroke._

C'mon, Daisy! Snap out of it! He needs some encouragement. Flash him your giddy smile. Yeah, that should do it.

_Daisy shot a girly smile but it felt like a piece of paper glued to her face. She quickly dropped, a little embarrassed herself._

_They stayed like that for two minutes, interested in everything but each other, Daisy with her hands twitching on the small of her back, Luigi tracing the floor with his shoe._

Daisy, say something! Don't let this sexy fish slip away! Ah! I said sexy!

"_Hey se…uh, Luigi," she squeaked out. _Whoo! That was too close for comfort.

"_Hi," he squeaked back._

_Awkward silence._

That didn't work. Try something else! Ask him about his day!

"_I'm Daisy."_

No, you ditz! You can shatter a guy's ball with one swift kick, but you can't do one of the simplest forms of human communication…talking?! Gah!

_She watched for Luigi's reaction from the corner of her eye. To her surprise, he strained a smile, but still will not look at her. _

"_Hee. I know who you are."_

_Her little mishap must have injected him with confidence, for he now looked into her eyes. She looked back. Those eyes…_

_He suddenly inhaled a large of air and sputtered out, "WillyougotothepromwithmeeeEEEE?" he turned his head slightly away, expecting the cold rejection._

_She didn't have to think twice._

"_Of course I will!"_

_Luigi fainted._

_Faint he did, but from that point on, Luigi's fear in girls diminished. He spent more and more time with her, revealing his hobbies and interests, his ambitions, and even his secrets from the past. When you tell someone their deepest, darkest secrets, you know you have achieved the pinnacle of "best friend"; every girl knows that, duh!_

_Best friend status was great, don't get her wrong. But she wanted more than that…_

_Either Luigi seemed oblivious to her hints or he was afraid to go the next step in the relationship. She waited and waited and waited…she even waited some more! Nothing. Looks like he just wanted to remain as friends._

_Now, two years later, just a week from graduation, he had still not unleashed his innermost feelings. _

_But his eyes…they spelled the future..._

_*****_

"_Daisy, what are you doing?"_

"_You called me a boy. Well, boys wrestle, don't they?"_

"_Uh…we're playing a tennis match…"_

"_Not anymore. Ha!"_

_Daisy hurtled over the tennis net and speared for Luigi, who hid his head behind open hands, ready to embrace contact._

_She pounced on top of him and they sprawled to the macadam. What followed was not a beating, but something much, much, _much_ worse._

_Daisy pinned Luigi's legs down with her knees. Then she proceeded to rake at his sides, tickling him like there was no tomorrow. Helpless beyond helpless, the teenager could only retaliate with crazy laughter. Oh, he was in trouble. Look, he can't even breathe anymore because he's laughing so hard!_

"_Okay, Okay, Okay, Okay! You win!"_

_Baring a smile, she released Luigi. He crawled over to the gate and sat against it, reeling to catch his breath. Daisy skipped over and plopped down next to him._

"_You had it coming, you know."_

"_Well, you do have a powerful swing," he wheezed._

_They sat there in silence, the birds chirping, the dandelions blowing, the sun shining. The day crawled to a snail's pace, trying to hold out on its beauty as long as possible._

_Daisy rested her head on Luigi's shoulder, absorbed by the magnificence of the world._

"_Luigi?"_

_He put an arm around her shoulder. "Yeah?"_

"_What do you like most about me?"_

"_Ooo, that's not tough. You can make a whole gang of mobsters run crying with their tails between their legs. You're determined to achieve every goal you've set for yourself. The hair on top of your head is pretty cool, too. Silky and smooth, smells like strawberries. Children look up to you like you're their mother. You can punt a football all most sixty yards. Heh heh, you're no ditz – ousted me from graduating top in our class. The way you care about me, make me feel accepted, when I thought only my father and brother did. Um…oh yeah, and you dress pretty sexy."_

_Daisy raised her head up and looked down at herself. Tight orange athletic shorts, tight yellow sleeveless shirt with a green daisy on the chest area. Damn, she was good._

"_Yeah, I do dress sexy, don't I?" She beamed at Luigi, who nodded in agreement. "Eh, you're not so bad yourself."_

_Luigi raised an eyebrow and looked down at himself. Wrinkled blue athletic shorts, green shirt with a hole in the collar, green sweatband that needed a year's worth of washing and drying. She had to be kidding, right?_

"_Uh, thanks, Daisy."_

_She rested her head on his shoulder again. "Don't mention it."_

_A hawk swooped down from a tree outside the fence and all most kamikazed to the ground. But at the last second, it ripped out a U-turn and flew upward, now with a tasty little rodent clutched in its talons. Luigi and Daisy watched the hawk fly back to its perch, and Luigi asked, "What do you like about me the most?"_

"_You want a girl's honest opinion?"_

"_Sure. Kind of hoping you would."_

"_Your ass."_

_He hesitated before responding. "I could have guessed that by your 'sly' attempts to pinch me there."_

"_That obvious, eh?"_

"_Let's just say, I can feel the pain for a few days afterwards," he laughed back._

_They sat in silence for a few moments. Daisy traced a finger along Luigi's knee while he watched her._

"_I thank you for the compliment, but really, what do you like most about me?"_

"_Hee hee. Okay, I'll be serious." She raised her head to look at him. "The way you smile, which lights up a thousand rooms. How your touch feels so warm against my skin. How you're so courteous to others, even if they're bastards or treat you like crap. You'll go out of your way to make sure everyone is safe, all ways caring about yourself last. How you greatly love your father and brother. And you being best friends with me, I couldn't ask for more. And your eyes – " She stopped herself and looked down to the ground._

_Luigi scratched his knee. "That was beautiful. But, uh, why did you stop?"_

_Once again she rested her head on his shoulder, baring a slight frown. _

"_You'll think I'm nuts or something."_

"_Hey, if I thought you were nuts, I would have eaten you all ready."_

_She raised her head and plopped it against the fence, a small giggle escaping from her lips. But she still did not look at him._

"_Luigi. That was the worst joke I ever heard."_

"_Yeah, I know. Made you smile though, didn't I?"_

"_Yeah…," She looked over at him, his eyes shining along with the sun. "Every time I look into your eyes, I see…um…I see us. In the future. Holding each other very close. In…In love…"_

_She watched herself twiddle her thumbs, loathing the kind of response she was going to receive._

_He didn't speak for some time. But then he muttered, "I see the same thing in your eyes."_

_Daisy's eyes nearly popped out of her head. She rolled onto her knees and clutched one of Luigi's hands to her chest._

"_You do?"_

"_Yes, I see the same thing," he repeated. Luigi smiled in her direction, but she couldn't help but noticed how weary his eyes looked. Was he not telling her something?_

_He replied to her thoughts. "Daisy, there's something I have to tell you. The reason why I never said I loved you."_

_Stunned, Daisy gently released his hand and let it dropped to the ground. She plopped down on her butt and wrapped her arms around her legs, tightening up like a ball._

_He straightened his posture. "Once we graduate, I have to leave. And I'm never coming back."_

_A tear trickled down her eye. "Why? Why can't you stay here?"_

"_My father says we must go. Something about mine and Mario's destinies. The reason why we were sucked into this world."_

"_I…I…"_

_Luigi sprung to his knees and grabbed her hands. While caressing them, he said, "Daisy, I know this is all so sudden. But I can't say something so strong, so life-changing, to you and not be able to live up to those words. And I feel like a monster for zipping my mouth shut for so long."_

_Daisy finally looked back at him, right into his eyes. "But…don't you think we were meant to be together? Don't you think it's our…destiny?"_

"_Maybe. Maybe not. It's hard to tell. I really want it to be."_

_More tears drizzled down her cheeks but she remained strong. "This is all so confusing, so out of nowhere. This sucks!"_

_Luigi leaned closer to her and gently pressed a finger to her lips. He, too, had tears flowing, with a sad smile blotched on his face._

"_Daisy, can I at least do this for you?"_

_He wrapped his arms around her waist, stroking the small of her back. He leaned in with puckering lips. And he kissed her. For how long, no one knows, but Daisy wished this kiss would never end._

_*****_

"How's the princess business?"

"Eh. It has its ups and downs. Nothing I can't handle like kicking someone in the balls."

Mario took as second to glance at her, but returned his attention to his driving when a car horn blasted outside.

Daisy leaned against the passenger door, her eyes lost in her thoughts.

"Mario, do you really think this is such a good idea?"

Still focused on the road, he replied, "What, about meeting Luigi? Of course! You two acted like lovebirds years ago. Still to this day, he doesn't stop talking about you."

"Really?"

"I don't kid around, Daisy."

Daisy leaned against the side door, watching the scenery rocket by her.

How many years has it been? She couldn't remember. The day Luigi and his family left was when the darkness pillaged the kingdom. She had been depressed, believing she would never love a man like him, but then a strange circumstance occurred a few days later.

Apparently, the king of Sarasaland was actually an uncle of hers. Why her parents never told her about him, she didn't know – could have been an asshole? Whatever. Regardless of the reasons, the king died of the flu. Though, he had no children of his own to claim the crown. So, her father and mother took over the throne, although reluctantly. But sadly, with only a few days of experience under their belts, her parents were killed in a terrorist bombing. And of course, the closest heir to the throne was her.

Since the age of eighteen, she had ruled the Sarasaland Kingdom. Her people loved her, thankful for all the changes she made that enhanced their way of living. But her servants and royal guards encouraged her to get married, to have a loving husband rule alongside her.

She couldn't admit to them, because it would show weakness. But her love was sealed in a bank vault –only one person in the world knew the combination. And he would never be here to open it.

But as time crept by, her thoughts and feelings about Luigi slowly escaped her mind. Her time was all ways occupied with her work, wanting what was best for her people. And then one day, she just…forgot about him.

Until she received a call from Mario.

Could this be destiny? The future she foresaw in Luigi's eyes? She couldn't wait to see him, to let him open up the vault and greet her love with open arms. Only…would he feel the same way?

Supposedly, he does, as Mario had just informed her. This bit of information lifted her heart.

She looked back to Mario. "How has he been doing?"

Mario smiled. She must have asked a sensitive question, because a tear stroked down his face.

"I'm so proud of him. For years he had to linger in my shadow, never getting the credit that he deserved. But he remained strong, never showed it on his face. According to my father, I had broken the egg that is my destiny. But not Luigi. It bugged the hell out of him."

Another car horn blared by them. He scowled out his side window, but returned his gaze to the road with a sigh.

He continued, "But then we received these invitations for the Super Smash Bros. league. And I tell you, I feel like _I'm_ the number two. Everyone respects him, the kids want to play with him, the adults want to be around his presence. But there are four Smashers in particular that really adore Luigi. You see, these four have had terrible lives, loved ones killed before their very eyes. They lost the will to live. But when they met Luigi, they kind of…went through a metamorphosis. I really can't explain it."

Daisy smiled, tracing her finger along the dashboard. "But he's happy now?"

"Never saw him happier in my life."

She smiled. "You know, I really appreciate this, Mario. I really don't know how I can repay you. For crying out loud, I owe you two! You saved my kingdom from that alien, remember?"

He waved a hand at her. "Nah, don't be ridiculous. You owe me nothing. Besides, I like doing this kind of stuff. Especially for my brother." He paused, his smile fading away. "For some reason, right out of the blue, I thought 'man, this would be a perfect time to call Daisy and get her together with Luigi'. All most like…someone told me to do it. Kind of kooky, huh?"

Daisy scratched her chin. _Yeah, all most like it was…destiny?_

They rode in silence for a few minutes, the car humping over the rivets and bumps in the road. Daisy broke the silence.

"So…how was the plumber business?"

"Shitty."

They laughed, driving toward the Smash Mansion. Unfortunately, in an hour or two from now, it will be the empire for one of the sweatiest, fattest, ugliest, greasiest, smelliest, crudest, craziest bad guys to have ever existed.

**Hey, fellow fanfic readers and writers; romance isn't my strongest, so let me know how I did between Daisy and Luigi. Suggestions are welcomed.**


	26. Nightmares Are For Real

"_**I did not believe the information  
Just had to trust imagination  
My heart was going boom boom, boom  
Son, he said, grab your things, Ive come to take you home."**_

**Peter Gabriel, **_Solsbury Hill_

"_Obey Wario…destroy Mario!"_

"_Yes, Great Wario!"_

"_I, the Great Wario, demand you to tie Peach up, lock her in my room, and…hrm*, display her for my pleasures."_

"_Yes, Great Wario!"_

"_I'm not Peach! What kind of monster are you?! Leave him alone! Hey, don't touch me there! Help! Help!"_

"_Muhahaha!"_

"_Help! Luigi!"_

"Noooooo!!!!"

A surge of energy vamped through the Doctor's body. He jolted awake and throttled forward from his seat, banging his head on the train window.

_What was that?! Please tell me that was a nightmare!_

Dr. Mario flung his head around like a spinning top, his brain thumping around in his skull. Was he where he was supposed to be?

The train. He was on the train. For the tryouts. Yes, he had been sitting right here. They were moving, nothing seemed out of place. All right, good. Must have just dozed off.

"Mah boi?!" A hand soothed his shoulder, and he snapped his head around to see The King sitting next to him, his beard twitching to and fro, his eyes watering with concern.

"It was just a nightmare. It's okay. I'm just a little startled, that's all." The doctor attempted to accompany his excuse with a smile, but it felt like a nerdy chipmunk flaunting its two front teeth.

The King released his grip on the Dr. Mario's shoulder, but his eyes remained fixated on him, like an interrogator daring his captor to spill the beans. All of the sudden, The King whisked his face in front of his, their noses sandwiched together. The King's eyes rolled around, studying every nook and cranny of the doctor's, looking for anything that may exploit his "story". He shot back as if he had touched something excruciatingly hot, and raised his hand and smacked his face with a large pointer finger, an "Hmmm…" thundering from his throat. But then, in less than a blink of an eye, The King's mouth and beard smile. He situated back into his seat to face the front of the train; though, his eyes were focused in another world. A giant gray goblet appeared in his hand, and every five seconds he would take a slurp, uttering, "Mah boi!" between each interval.

Slurp* "Mah boi!" Slurp* "Mah boi!" Slurp* "Mah boi!"

_Sigh…how can a man appear so intelligent within the eyes, yet sound so stupid and possesses a vocabulary consisting a mere one hundred words?_

But at least the doctor had bought his excuse, albeit a very weak one. And he had also expressed concern for him, which reassured the doctor a tad. He settled back in his seat and nestled his chin into a palm. The scenery bleared by, dots of cows and trees running at full speeds in the opposite direction.

_Interesting…where did the clouds come from?_

Clouds as round and thick as bowling balls stampeded across the sky, threatening to engulf the tiny, frightened sun in one giant gulp.

He looked down at his watch. Wow, he had only been sleeping for twenty-five minutes. And there were no mountains or anything to have hidden them before. So…what gives?

The doctor's eyes themselves clouded over, remembering the nightmare he had awoken from. It had been a nightmare, right?

Dr. Mario knew the symptoms of a nightmare. Usually, patients wake up in a lake of sweat, panting and screaming. Yet, he was not sweating or panting. But he did yell, all most like he was there watching the whole thing…no wait, he couldn't see anything, only hear a conversation.

Hm. One of the voices reminded him of Wario – it was hard to mistaken anyone else for that mush-for-brains. He was the only thing Dr. Mario knew who sounded like a soggy sock full of pennies. And, as usual, he called himself the "Great Wario". But the Smashers (well, everyone really) never responded to him or usually just ignored him.

A chill burned through Dr. Mario's skin as he recalled the other voices. The voices that sounded like they were in a trance. Dozens of them. And they had acknowledged the fatso as "the Great Wario". Though, some of the voices felt familiar. No, it couldn't have been the other Smashers, could it? But they sounded so…honored…to obey Wario's commands.

And what did Wario tell them to do? To destroy…destroy…his…son…

The doctor's arm shot out from under his chin, his hand choking the armrest. Did Wario have his son?! No, he must -!

_Calm down, calm down. It was just a nightmare, right? It wasn't one of those messages that you have received before, right? Like when you were told to live in the Mushroom Kingdom? It was just a dream. C'mon, think about it…any dream featuring Wario would set your hair on fire. Yea…Yea…_

Dr. Mario eased his chokehold on the armrest and relaxed himself in his chair, his arms crossed over in his lap. He gazed up at the ceiling, but his eyes were focused on his mind, mulling over the rest of his nightmare.

Okay. Mario had been captured…Well, no, it's not certain. Maybe Wario was instructing his…followers…to hunt for his son? Maybe…but, wasn't there a second individual voice? Yeah, there was. A female. Might have been Princess Peach.

No…no…no, wait. They _thought_ she was Princess Peach. She said she was someone else. Ah crap, and she had confirmed that Mario was captured because she told him to leave him alone…though, it could have been someone else…hm…

Well, if it wasn't Peach, who was it? Definitely not Samus. Her voice was a bit gruff and intimidating, though, the voice in his nightmare did have a bit of spunk to it. Not Zelda. Her voice is kind of echo-ish, very motherly. This had no trace of that. Hm…and not Nana. She's a child and this was an adult. Maybe it was…

Dr. Mario's eyes flared open, the surrounding facial muscles shriveling like a raisin.

No…Daisy; it couldn't be her. That's too coincidental…

Evil creeped through the window frames, slithering along the doctor's lap. The evil seemed to look at him right in the face, but he just couldn't see where…The train felt cold. Too cold.

Slurp* "Mah boi!" Slurp* "Mah boi!" Slurp* "Mah boi!"

Dr. Mario twiddled his thumbs, watching The King from the corner of his eye. As far as he could tell, the bearded man did not exhibit the same emotions that he felt. Well, to be honest, The King wasn't really showing any emotion. Period. Just…eyes lost in space, slurping from his goblet every five seconds, a broken record saying the same thing over and over.

The doctor threw his gaze to the rest of the train, wondering if any of the other patrons appeared agitated. But a thought punched him in the face, startling him.

Wait…wait just a minute…what was the last thing Daisy had said? She was screaming for someone. But who? Um…

No…

The rumbling of the train drained out, leaving behind a hollowed buzzing. The chattering petered out, mouths absentmindedly moving. Even The King's monotonous words were just farts frolicking in the wind. Then everything stopped, frozen in place. Time had died.

No…it couldn't be…

Luigi.

The black clouds outside sneered down at him, each wiggling a zig-zagging mustache.

His sons were in danger. He must tell Master Hand.

The good doctor grabbed his cane from off the floor and squeezed between a pair of knees and the back of a chair. The King did not notice Dr. Mario repeatedly tripping over his feet. Why, if you would have hammered a large, rusty nail into his skull, he probably would continue to quabble to the nothingness in front of him, enjoying the endless supply of the goblet drink and "Mah boi!"s.

Dr. Mario hobbled to the back of the train, ignoring the other patrons' waves and smiles. He tried to mask his fear with a smile, but it eventually peeled off – when he reached the back of the train car, he had broken out into a cold sweat.

The doctor gritted his teeth to slide the door open with his free hand. The creaking hinges snapped open, the door sliding into the wall with a clatter.

The Hands had a train car specialized for them. I mean, really, you think they could fit in the tiny chairs in regular train car seats? The car was flourished with a rich, speckled beige and green carpet, matched with striped beige and green walls. A golden chandelier glittered in each of the corners, but none were alit. A large oak table decked against the left side, giant bean bags acting as chairs on each long end of the table. On the other side lay two beds, each big enough for the world's fattest man to sleep comfortably on. Stationed in the center of the room were two enormous Lay-Z-Boys, facing an immense television glued to the wall right next to the entrance.

He didn't step through the doorway. Instead, he observed Master Hand floating above his seat, waving his fingers at Crazy Hand, who had been completely chained to one of the Lay-Z-boys. The only white that was showing from Crazy was the very tip of his fingers, poking out of the coiled chains.

Upon hearing the clatter, Master Hand spun around and pointed his finger to the door.

"Dr. Mario! How are you? Oh geez, that was a very expensive vase that the train owned. I believe I'm not responsible for – doctor, what's wrong?!"

Master Hand bulleted to the frightened doctor, curling a finger around him and leading him to the center of the room.

"Doctor, you look like you've seen a ghost! Tell me, what is wrong? Has one of those nitwits done something to you?"

"My sons. Mario. Luigi. They're in trouble."

Crazy Hand wiggled as much of his middle finger as he could. "Ah, is that obnoxious Bowser up to his gizzardly wrinkled tricks again? Is something smellishly wrong with the plumbing? Gasp!* It better not be about my peanuts!!!"

Master Hand seated the doctor in one of the bean bags. After asking the doctor if he was okay, he crawled on all five fingers to Crazy Hand. He splatted down on top of the chained glove like a flyswatter.

"Ouch! You really need your fingernails cut! I'll have a permanent scar there for a few days!"

Master Hand shook a finger "no" at him. "Crazy. First, it's not permanent if it goes away. Second, our friend here has some bad news to tell us about some of our workers."

Crazy Hand's fingers twisted away from Master Hand, appearing to be disgusted with the other hand's choice of words. Master Hand floated in front of him for a few seconds then crawled back over to the doctor.

Master Hand rested his wrist on the ground, his fingers itching a few feet away from the doctor. He only looked down at the ground, his fingers typing on the cane. Only the rattling of the train echoed in the dark, suppressed room.

"Master Hand. I had just awoken from a nightmare."

"I can see that. You're all soaked. Now tell me, what is wrong with m- um, your sons?"

Dr. Mario crept his gaze up to Master, his eyes puckering with water. "Something evil is happening at the Smash Mansion as we speak. You may not believe me, but I sense it."

"What? We can't flip this train around just because you had a nightmare. We have a schedule to keep. These people paid for their tryouts. As a businessman, I have to give my end of the deal."

The doctor gently closed his eyes, pressed his chin into his cane, and sighed. "I understand. But do you not feel the…difference…in the air?"

"No. I don't feel anything."

"Bah! I do!"

Master Hand whipped his fingers around, facing Crazy Hand. He scratched his thumb with his pointer finger.

"Crazy Hand, please don't interrupt me when I'm talking with someone."

"Well, if you would have given me a peanut in the first place, none of this would have ever happened!"

Dr. Mario refused to watch the two Hands bickering and remained in his position, eyes closed and head resting on cane. He knew it would be tough to convince Master Hand to go back – he was a little close-minded. But, he had to admit, he probably wouldn't have believed the story either –

SCREECH!!*

A hollow echoing resonated in his the back of his head, and an explosion of white light swallowed the room.

_**IT IS TIME. THE EVIL MUST BE STOPPED BEFORE IT GROWS. IT IS TIME. THE YOUNGER ONE MUST LIVE HIS DESTINY. IT IS TIME. IT IS TIME. IT IS TIME…**_

*****

"Dr. Mario! Dr. Mario! Please, wake up!"

A heavy weight nudged him on the shoulder. He fluttered his eyes open, his hand clutching over his heart.

The doctor sprang up as fast as his crippled leg could sustain him, and leaned himself on his cane, randomly waving his other hand in the air, like he was trying to swat a fly.

"Master Hand! Crazy Hand! We must go to the Smash Mansion now!"

The pain in the back of his head had returned once more, delivering another message. But this one was different than the previous ones. Never had such a huge, white light engulfed him into an…emptiness. And never had the voice been so powerful, so deafening, so…close. All most as if an invisible five hundred foot man stood in front of him, bellowing his words right into his ear.

But of course, Master Hand wouldn't believe him. But he had to try.

"Master Hand, Wario –"

The gloved hand cut his words with a horizontal chop. "I'm glad you are okay. But we have bigger problems now. Much bigger."

_Oh no. Since when did Master Hand ever sound scared? Maybe he believes me?_

Master Hand pointed to one of the windows. "The train had screeched to a halt about five minutes ago. And look out there." He pointed to the other window, gesturing Dr. Mario to follow him. "I'm afraid what you're saying may be true."

_No…How long have I been out? How did I not notice the train was immobile? What if I'm too late to warn everyone? What if the apocalypse has all ready occurred?! Makes sense; judging by how dark and cloudy it is, I think this world is ready to blow a new one._

He followed the floating hand, past Crazy Hand, who was wriggling around in his chains, shouting how he was raised by a pack of wolves when he was only a little hand. At any other time, this outrageous exclamation might at least be somewhat humorous.

But when the doctor reached the window and peered down to the ground below, he believed he would never laugh again.

Standing a few yards away, waving to them with a sneering mustache, was Dr. Robotnik.

And he had a gun.

**Sorry it took me a bit to upload the next chapter. College starts again in a few days, so I have to get ready. Meaning, my updating will be a bit more sparse – thought if could upload all of this before then. Just to let you know what's going on.**


	27. The Great Wario Reawakens

"_**Hey, I'm breathing  
Hey, I'm bleeding  
Hey, I'm screaming  
Scum of the earth  
Come on"**_

Rob Zombie, _Scum of the Earth_

_Huh? Wha?...Where am I?_

Tiled floor. Glossy ceiling. Water running. Stinky aroma.

Wario had not fallen asleep on the toilet. Darn.

The blobbish man attempted to stand up, flailing his stubby arms and legs like an overturned turtle. In a matter of three seconds, his shirt, his pants, and even the floor, were soaked with his putrid, blackish sweat. The pupils in his eyes nearly tore in half, his serrated teeth grinding the enamel away, the boogers gushed from his nose like Niagra Falls. This was the most exercise Wariod has had twenty-four years – he could feel the calories melting away like a hair dryer blowing on a stick of butter. Why, if he didn't stand up and stampede to the kitchen soon, he'll keel over from hunger! He'd be skin and bones! His beautiful, muscular frame…gone!

Wait! He had an idea!

*****

The cave entrance creaked open like a door in need of oil, where a flabby, purple worm slumbered. It cringed a bit from the light, but then slowly slithered to the brink of the cave, looking to its right and left, in awe of such a bright, colorful, and clean-smelling world. One that wasn't reminiscent of a sewage tank.

When the worm-like creature spotted a finger floating toward him, it slurped and salivated in glee, sounding like a plunger unclogging a crap-filled toilet. Oh joy, new prey! Something else to leave its mark/scent on.

As soon as the finger was in distance, the monster worm lunged forward, the putrid, black saliva dripping from its pulsating veins. And it landed on the finger with a SPLAT*, coiling around it like a boa constrictor. Mmm…let the warm, sticky juices drown its hapless victim. Let the finger writhe and suffocate from its garlic and motor oil stench. Mmm…

When it thought the finger had had enough, the tongue slimed back into its dank cave, content with its performance. Then the cave entrance closed, slicing the light from the darkness, the worm flopping in its putrid, black juices. Waiting once again for the chance to assault the world with its hatred, its lust for death, its…power.

*****

After Wario licked his finger, he stretched it out above him, estimating the wind velocity and air pressure. Then he observed the angle of the floor to the wall, and the wall to the doorway at the top of the stairs opposite of the wall.

Eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, teeth clenched on a ham sandwich that had appeared from nowhere, Wario raised his legs roughly two inches from the ground and extended his arms like he was imitating an airplane. He leaned his head forward, pressing his nose against his stomach…

3…2…1…CLICK*

PPHHHLLLLL!!!!!

Wario rocketed off the ground with a fart, hurtling forward with his arms and legs extended like a starfish. He smacked into the wall but did not crash. Instead, his gelatinous stomach bounced off the wall, detonating another fart. Bouncing off the wall propelled him head-first toward the door at the top of the stairs, his butt blanketing the ground with a trail of choking gas. When he reached the doorway, his fart source ran out on empty. The oversized plane descended to the ground, threatening to shatter into thousands of pieces of jell-o. But thanks to Wario's stomach, he bounced off the ground and landed heavenly on his feet.

Wario tweaked his mustache, a snicker breathing through a toothy sneer. Yes, you can throw yourselves at his feet, bow to him, worship him, congratulate him on his incredible feat and his greatness. Was there anything he couldn't do?

Wario posed for his people, basking himself in glory and pride. Oh, wow…he could really feel their love for him. Like he was in a sauna, the steam splashing onto his face, oozing down his forehead, dripping of his eyebrows and mustache…

Hold on a second. Sniff* sniff*

Oops. It was only a fart.

Wario's toothy grin died. A gurgly snarl vibrated in his throat, and he gave birth to a toothy frown.

"Why does no one thank the Great Wario for his greatness?! Have I not just accomplished an amazing feat?!"

He pulled the front of his sweaty shirt from his body like scotch tape, shoved it into his mouth, and proceeded to quench his thirst.

Of course he had accomplished an amazing feat. No one but him could ricochet off walls like a pinball machine and fly around with a built-in jetpack. Actually, he was the only person in all the universes that could do anything and everything. Why, he was the Great Wario! If he wanted to pull a white rabbit from his butt, he'll pull a white rabbit from his butt.

Fatty reached down the back of his pants, tongue sticking out, eyes narrowed on the task at hand. After hearing a popping sound, he pulled out a white rabbit.

Except it was dead. And reeked of ass and death.

Wario shrugged and slurped up the dead rabbit. He patted his stomach, an "ahh…" soothing from his mouth.

See? He could do anything! Usually when he performed something godly, something charming; even so much as walking down the hallway to the bathroom, his servants would shadow him, begging to breathe in the same air as he did. And begging to breathe and bathe themselves with his deliciously fruity farts. They're like leeches – they wanted to have a little bit of his greatness radiating in their blood.

How could they _not_ want to be him? He did live the perfect life, rescuing maidens from bad guys and solving crises like world hunger and war. Why, just look at him; intelligent, charming, a beautiful smile, and a healthy diet – just a few of the godly traits Wario possessed. Honestly, the list wouldn't even fit on a whole roll of toilet paper. He was just so…great. The Great Wario. Loved by all.

So…why were they not licking his feet and fanning him with giant palm leaves? He had accomplished something great! Gggrrr…looks like he's going to need to beat them to a bloody pulp. There's no excuse for forgotting the most important rule in the Great Wario's rule book; you _must_ acknowledge and tell the Great Wario that he is great, 24/7. They're not supposed to have their own lives.

Wario shaded a hand over his brow and scoped down the length of the hallway. Hm. No one in sight. What could that possibly mean? Why were his servants disobeying him?

Oh well. That mystery would have to be solved later. He hadn't eaten anything for a couple hours. If he didn't stampede down to the kitchen soon, all those years of maintaining a sexy body would be wasted.

Wario hobbled down the hallway, his arms sticking out like a rack for coat hangers, his sweaty shoes sloshing in the carpet.

Crap. His whole schedule is messed up. With all the interruptions today, how would he have the time to look at himself in the mirror before he snoozed for the night? He couldn't live without standing in front of the mirror for an hour, getting aroused from his muscular body and sweet smile. And his mind felt a little fuzzy. How would he be able to concentrate at dinner? It's hard to eat, poop, and watch television simultaneously as it is. Oh, someone's going to have to –

Something blocked Wario's throat.

Wario halted and rubbed his hands together, a sneer gliding across his face. He loved it when he vomited. Just seeing the different kinds of food, objects, animals, and people that he had eaten, all mushed up into goo and smelling like rotten eggs and dead fish – his great stomach did all of that! No other stomach could digest food so perfect! And at rare moments like these, he could re-eat his food! He wouldn't even have to go to the kitchen!

He opened his hands up to his mouth, prepared to catch his vomit. What great mysteries awaited him? Oh, here it comes!...

BELCH!*

Wario beamed to the heavens with his eyes closed, caressing the fluffy greatness in his hands…

Wait a second…fluffy?

Wario closed his hands around the gunk, wiggling his fingers around. It wasn't slimy. Nor wet. Nor chunky. Why, it didn't feel like vomit! It felt too smooth, too fine, too sweet. That wasn't him at all! He opened his eyes...and gasped.

There, crumpled in a ball, was a pair of large, pink panties.

All the memories were flooding back to him now, the candle in his head suddenly alit.

That stupid princess! She thought she was better than the Great Wario! She tried to suffocate him by stuffing her butt in his mouth. But Wario fought back bravely, driving the bitch away with his amazing speed, strength, and agility. He frightened her and she begged him not to hurt her. She had realized the error of her ways and desired to say everyday that 'Wario is the greatest person in the world.' And thus, he had deflowered her and had saved the rest of the Smashers' lives from the end of the world.

Another job well done.

So why weren't his servants flowering him with their remarks on his greatness? He had just saved the world, damn it!

Hold it! Now it all makes sense! They had memorized his schedule, right? Well, they must be waiting in the kitchen, planning a surprise celebration. Party hats, cake, hookers! Oh, he couldn't wait. His servants were so good to him.

Wario hobbled down the hall, beaming to no one in particular, the panties stashed in his butt, long forgotten.

_I am the Great Wario, I am the Great Wario, Rah-rah-rah! I am the Great Wario, I am the Great Wario, Rah-rah-rah! I am the Great War-_

Whoa! Wario tripped over something and fell on his butt, prompting out another fart.

The piss stains on his clothes began to boil, the grease in his hair began to melt, the mold on his teeth began to wilt – oh boy, was he angry! No one makes the Great Wario fall!

He crawled over to the object, ready to scold it and tell it how great he was, but halted when he saw what it was.

_Wha…Who…that…that _bitch!

Tears welled up in Wario's eyes. His favorite frying pan. Chipped. Because of that fat –ass stupid bitch. Now he would never be able to make his all-time favorite meal; fried lard cooked in bacon grease. Such luxuries swatted out of Wario's hands. And now his best friend had been murdered. By that fat-ass bitch. A person who dared to have a better-looking ass than him. Why did everyone eye her ass and not his? His squealed with greatness, did it not?

He caressed the frying pan, gently stroking it and talking to it in a fatherly voice. Wario started to sob uncontrollably and cradled the frying pan in his arms, much like how a mother would cradle a crying baby in her arms.

Kissing the frying pan one last time, Wario wished it to a better place and rested it on a nearby sofa, making a bed for it out of pillows and blankets.

_My best friend, may you rest in peace._

Wario wiped the tears from his eyes and growled. Princess Peach. The traitor of the Great Wario. She must pay for what she has done.

*****

_Ugh…Who am I? Where am I? What's…what's going on?_

He clambered to his feet, rubbing the bruise on his head, and –

_Whoa! What was that? Is that an ear on the top of my head? And a long snout? Oh my, even a long, bushy tail?_

_Cool! I'm a wolf! Well, a humanoid wolf…anyway? _

Well, he knew _what_ he was. But, who was he? And where in the world was he? And how the heck did he get this bruise on his head?

Someone must have attacked him and left him here to die. But why? He might as well been in a hall of mirrors; every direction blocked by solid glass, gleaming with the one answer he knew – his own reflection. Didn't help much. So, where was he supposed to begin his investigation?

Well, wolves are generally known to have an incredible sense of smell, right? Why not try that?

Sniff* Sniff*

_Phew! What reeks?! _He jammed two fingers into his snout. _Gosh! I must be in zombie hotel or standing next to a pile of fermented bananas wrapped in sewage! Crikey! There's absolutely no way that that stench is human. No way._

SPLOOSH* SPLOOSH* SPLOOSH*

_What was that?_ Strange sounds from behind him. On the second floor.

SPLOOSH* SPLOOSH* SPLOOSH*

_Someone, or something, is coming down the steps._

The wolf flipped around, ready to go all kung-fu…but it was only a man. He relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. Only to gag from the putrid air he had just inhaled.

_Yikes! Is this stench coming from this guy? Well, you can't judge a book by its cover. Maybe he can help jigsaw all my missing pieces back togeth – yikes, is he ugly! And greasy! And fat! And sweaty! And…ugh…c'mon, just ask the guy if he knows what's going on. Then you can leave this place and indulge yourself in the sweet, sweet taste of pure, clean oxygen._

He walked up to the jelly-like man just as he stomped off the last of the stairs, a crooked frown curdled over his greasy face. He did not seem to notice the wolf walking next to him.

_Obviously lost in his own little world. Wonder what he's mumbling about? Sounds and looks pretty angry. Neh, I wonder if I should just – _

The man suddenly stopped, like he had walked right into a wall. He stuck his hand down the back of his pants, his hand crawling around like a large spider under a blanket, and yanked out a pair of…pink panties? Wow, they're pretty big. Oh no, don't tell me he…

"Hey!"

The wolf jumped in place, nearly losing his footing. The man had unknowingly spun around to face him, a dirty-gloved finger launched into his direction.

"How dare you treat me, the Great Wario, like dirt!"

"What? You're the Great Wario?"

The Great Wario crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eye. "How could you have forgotten? I exclaim how great I am every single second of your life!"

Uh-oh. How was he supposed to know that this guy was royalty? Judging by his appearance alone, you would have thought he swam with the rats in the city dump. Once again, can't judge a book by its cover.

_Ah, better apologize or something. I know! I'll bow to him._

The wolf bowed to him, saying, "I'm sorry, Great Wario. Um, what have I done to make you feel unwanted?

"Well, you and everyone else ignored me after I had completed another amazing task. Why, you didn't even come and worship when I, the Great Wario, saved this world from that evil bitch!"

He was a servant to this man? And there were other servants? And he had saved the world? Ah crap, so that's what he was, a servant to the greatest man to have ever lived? Why didn't he remember that?! Better not let the Great Wario know that.

"I'm sorry, Great Wario, I would have come to your aid and watch you bask in your glory, but I believe that I had been attacked and knocked unconscious. I can't remember much of what happened."

The Great Wario rolled the pink panties in his hand. "That's because you _were_ attacked. By a bitch named Princess Peach. I had defeated her before she could blow up this world. She promised to obey me. But she betrayed me, and now, Wolf, she must die."

Huh, his name was Wolf? How original.

The Great Wario continued, "Now, remember –" his voice turned hypnotic, the words slowly rolling around in Wolf's head. "Obey Wario…destroy Peach!"

"Yes…yes, Great Wario."

"Obey Wario…Destroy Peach!"

"Yes, Great Wario!"

Wolf's eye dimmed a dull red, all rational thoughts and logic fizzling from his mind. The poor wolf had become brain-dead.

_I must obey the Great Wario, and only the Great Wario._

His beloved leader threw the pink panties at him, splatting right across his eyes, blinding him. "Take this for now. I can't stand to be near it. Smells too pretty. No matter what I try, I, the Great Wario, cannot seem to make it smell beautifully rotten."

Wolf zombied out, immobile, panties still blinding him. "Yes, Great Waro."

"Come. We must find those other idiotic servants. We are going to conduct a search in this mansion for that stupid bitch. I know she's here, because I, the Great Wario, can smell her. But I'm not sure where…"

A monotone Wolf responded, "Yes, Great Wario."

**Sorry I haven't updated for a few day. It's probably going to stay like this, since school starts for me in, eh, two days. If I only would have found this story from under my bed a month earlier…sigh…**


	28. IMPORTANT MESSAGE

**Hello fellow fanfic readers and writers,**

**I apologize for the brief hiatus, and judging from all the hits and reviews I've received, there are a lot of people on the world who like this story.**

**But college is a busy time; it's a lot of work, but the payoff is as fun as hell. It's hasn't even been two weeks and all ready I have to write, cast, direct, and edit a film by the end of the semester (16 weeks all together), run as president for the film club (meaning we watch a film and then I lead the discussion), work at the television station, write a movie review each week for the school paper, and participate in the 'Big Brother, Big Sister' (an American program where you act as a brother/sister to a poor child who never had one), not to mention a butt-load of schoolwork and friends to mingle with.**

**So, "Life Just Melts in Your Mouth" is not my top priority at the moment. But wait! That does not mean I'm going to quit on it. I'll try to pump out a chapter every weekend, 'cause all I have to do is make one quick sweep of editing and revising – but even that takes time. But I'll try.**

**And reading other stories is even a lesser priority than writing. But please, if you would like me to read a story, I would be more than happy to. Just tell me what it is, I'll write it down in my scheduling book, and once I'm done with my story, I'll read yours, and you can bet that I'll review it (and offer any advice if you want me to).**

**I leave this message for temporary purposes, so this won't be a permanent chapter. But expect one this coming weekend, and if not, next weekend at the very latest.**

**Thank you, fellow fanfic readers and writers,**

**Mike Dower**

**LaSalle University**

**Class of 2012**

**Philadelphia, PA**

**(facebook me if you want, heh heh)**


End file.
